


Into the fire we go again

by theycallmesuperboy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, F/M, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-01-02 01:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 108,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theycallmesuperboy/pseuds/theycallmesuperboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Stiles' six year, there's a breakout of lycanthropy. A series of werewolf attacks, resulting in the sudden shunning of nearly all his friends.</p><p>But that comes later. Because this is first year, and one Stiles Stilinski, fresh from losing his witch mom, and possessing one muggle dad who doesn't know the first thing about wizardry, meets one sixth year suffering the stigma of being a werewolf, Derek Hale.</p><p>And then it's second year and Stiles is beyond ready to get back to school, maybe for a reason that has to do with a scary seventh year who... doesn't show up. (Because, he finds out later, his entire family was murdered by one of Allison's crazy aunts, and if that doesn't get her a few stares...)</p><p>Third year comes with a lot of surprises. Also Derek's uncle comes back from the dead. </p><p>Fourth year is really actually boring, until Scott and Stiles get lost in the forbidden forest.</p><p>Fifth year is the year the Triwizard Tournament is held at Hogwarts, and Stiles thinks Danny and Lydia might be sharing the same boyfriend. Unless they're twins. Which makes sense. </p><p>And then it's sixth year, and Derek is back. As a teacher. Also lycanthropy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Year One: Things we lost in the flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is first year, and one Stiles Stilinski, fresh from losing his witch mom, and possessing one muggle dad who doesn't know the first thing about wizardry, meets one sixth year suffering the stigma of being a werewolf, Derek Hale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this whole thing started when I was thinking about Harry Potter and Teen Wolf at the same time, and the thought struck me, and I literally gasped, and went, "What would the stigma of being a werewolf be like for Derek and the other werewolves in the Harry Potter world? How would they be shunned?" and really this started out as me thinking how Derek would be SUCH an outcast at Hogwarts, but then it turned into this. Oops.
> 
> None of this would be even REMOTELY possible without my co-creator, beta, and best friend, Savvy, who literally stayed up till seven AM texting me about who would be in which elective and for what years and what their patronuses would be and creating teachers to fill in the holes and she's as much to thank for this as I am- so thank her, please, and her wonderful graphs.
> 
> Also, each chapter is a year at Hogwarts, with the addition of an epilogue at the end.

It was a Tuesday morning when Stiles got his acceptance letter. He'd been almost afraid he wouldn't, because his mom just died, and they might have forgotten about him. But he'd been doing magic since he was two and accidentally set his bath on fire because the water had gotten cold and he’d wanted to heat it up. He’d succeeded. He and his dad sat together at the kitchen table and opened the letter, Stiles’ legs dangling off the end of the chair, his father looking over his shoulder at the emerald green font, both feeling the empty space where Stiles' mom would have been just a few months before. The envelope was sealed with purple wax with the Hogwarts emblem, and it even contained his _full name_ (which his mom had insisted was a very popular name in the wizarding world.) 

 HOGWARTS SCHOOL

  
_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Jeff Davis

_(Member, Wizengmont, Member, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Stilinski,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. 

Yours sincerely, 

Chris Argent

_Deputy Headmaster_

 

Stiles looked up at his dad, and begged, “Can we go get my supplies? Right now? Please, I promise I’ll clean up my room and feed Striggy!” Stiles said, nearly bouncing in his chair. 

Detective Inspector Stilinski sighed, and shook his head. Their dishes from breakfast- cereal and eggs, nearly the only thing Stiles’ father could make- were littered around the table from before Stiles had gone to get the mail, and had come running back yelling that there was mail for him. He stood up, and started collecting dishes to put in their apartment’s sink, and said, “I’m sorry, kiddo, I wish we could. I have to get to work, but I promise we can go tomorrow.”

Stiles slouched back into his chair, but then perked up, “Does this mean I get a wand? And my own potions set? And-” Stiles rattled on. Stilinski shook his head, chuckling. Claudia would have been so proud of him. 

After putting the dishes in the sink, Stilinski said, “Whoa, whoa, slow down, Stiles, we still have to write them back.” 

Stiles shot up, “I can do that!” he ran into the study. Striggy, Claudia’s owl, let out a little hoot, and nestled back into the cage where he’d been, looking mournful. He hadn’t seen much action since Claudia’s funeral, where nearly a hundred crying, robed wizards came to mourn with DI Stilinski’s family. Most of the wizards had sent them letters of sympathy or little bits of food to ‘tide them over’ in the wake of her death, and Stilinski and Stiles had written them all back.

All of Claudia’s wizarding supplies- potions ingredients, her more dangerous books, and now, her wand, among other things- were in the the study, which Claudia had claimed when they first bought their apartment when Stiles was a baby. In the corner, Striggy’s cage sat, next to the desk where Stiles was scribbling something down in bright blue ink with one of Claudia's quills. His lips were pressed together in determination  as he wrote. After a moment, he stopped and read the letter over, and then stuffed it in an envelope, and let Striggy out. The grey owl clamped the letter in his beak, and then pecked on the window, which Stiles opened, after he said sternly, “Deliver this to Hogwarts.”

“I’m leaving for work, Stiles, make sure the doors are locked!” his father called out from the kitchen.

“The house is enchanted!” Stiles yelled back.

\---

Stiles woke up early the next morning, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, and tried to burrow back down under his pillow before remembering what the day was. _He and his dad were going school supply shopping_. Normally, yeah, that was cool and fun because _new stuff_ , but this year- this year he was gonna get a wand and his own robes (other than the formal robes his mom had bought him for her friend’s wedding, which he was outgrowing) and cauldrons and- Stiles shot up, knocking his pillow onto the floor, and scrambled out of bed.

“Dad!” he yelled, and ran down the hall into the kitchen, where his dad was reading the paper. He slid to a stop in front of his dad, and said, “Can we go school supply shopping now?”

He smiled into his cup of coffee, and said, “Nice to see you awake before noon. Eat breakfast first.”

Stiles grabbed a plate from the cabinet and poured the rest of the eggs from the pan onto it. He sat down at the table and started to shovel them into his mouth. He looked up at his dad, and at the coffee he was drinking, and asked, mouth full, “Can I have some?” 

“No,” he said, shaking his head.

“Daaaaaad,” Stiles whined, and then took another bite, “If it isn’t good for me, then it isn’t good for you!”

“Yeah well, who’s the adult here?”

Stiles pouted, and then finished up his eggs. “Can we go now?”

“Put the dishes in the sink. Have you taken your Adderall yet?” Stiles shook his head, “Go get dressed,” Stilinski said, and then rubbed the back of his head, “I _think_ I remember how to get to Diagon Alley.”

Stiles shot up, “I’ll be ready in two minutes!” and ran into his room, grabbing the first shirt and pair of pants he could find and quickly brushing his teeth, doing all his regular morning things- just more quickly. He ran back into the kitchen where his dad was putting his own dishes into the sink.  

“Ready?” Stilinski asked, and Stiles nodded. They entered Claudia’s study, and Stilinski moved towards the barely-used fireplace, removing the screen, and taking down the vase sitting on the mantle. The fireplace had been one of Claudia’s conditions in getting an apartment- she said she’d need a way to travel other than apparition (which she’d admitted she was never very good at), especially if she ever wanted to take both of her boys somewhere. Stilinski had only traveled by the Floo Network twice- once to Diagon Alley when Stiles was four, because she’d wanted to show him how to get places, in case he ever needed it, and once to her school friend’s wedding. He’d never thought he would need to use it- he figured Claudia would always be there, taking Stiles to get his school supplies the day he got his letter, and having them both come running in that night, laden with packages, ready to tell him about all the magical- literally- adventures they’d had. 

But then she’d gotten sick with a wizarding disease he’d been unable to pronounce, wasting away at St. Mungo’s for months. He hadn’t been there when she’d died- he’d been on duty, helping a young woman who’d told him to go if he wanted to see her one last time. He’d thought it was ludicrous. She was a delirious, dying young woman, but now that he looked back on it, she had likely been a dying young witch. 

Stiles was nearly bouncing on his heels in excitement. He had hardly been connected to the wizarding world since his mom died, and it was always one of the coolest places he’d ever been- he’d been through the Floo Network more times than he could count, going on shopping trips, or to the bank, or once, to bring-your-child-to-work day. He’d gotten a tour of the Ministry that day, and didn’t stop talking about it for weeks.

“Now, make sure you say Diagon Alley clearly, okay, Stiles? I have no idea where you’ll end up if you don’t, and since we can only go one at a time, I’m going first. I’d rather you be alone in the apartment then there.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “I know.” His dad took a handful of powder from the vase- painted by Stiles when he was seven- and then handed it to Stiles as he watched his dad. 

Stilinski threw the power into the fireplace, and suddenly it erupted into bright green flames. Stilinski held his breath- he was only human, this wasn’t the kind of thing that you ever really got used to, even after having a witch for a wife, and a wizard for a son- and stepped into the cold flames, yelled, “Diagon Alley!” and disappeared. 

Stiles was about to grab his own handful of power when he remembered something he wanted to take with him and stepped over to the desk to grab it, lifting up the bottom of his pants leg and sticking it into his shoe. He grabbed a handful of floo powder and threw it into the flames, stepping in and trying to remember what his mother had always told him as the cool flames licked higher and higher. Elbows tucked in, speak clearly, and _don’t_ try to get off before your stop, it’ll just make you sick. With that in mind, he took a deep breath, and yelled, “Diagon Alley!”

Suddenly he was sucked into the network, and for all it was terrifying, it was also thrilling. He felt the rush of the wind- or whatever this is- around him, he saw the other fireplaces and hearths wiz past him, and felt the rush of _magic_. And then as suddenly as it began, he was in one of the community fireplaces at Diagon Alley, sucking in ash and coughing as he was helped out by his dad. “You okay, Stiles?” he asked.

Stiles nodded, and croaked, “Yeah.” 

Stiles looked around, a grew a million times more excited. The street was quite narrow, the shops squished together, and leaning forward it almost seemed like they would topple over. The high windows advertized cauldrons, robes, spellbooks and pets. Wizards and witches in long black, or bright blue- or even one bright orange- robes passed each other, chatting merrily. He saw a few other young wizards and witches his age, probably school shopping like he and his dad. Stiles clutched his school supply list, and started, “Where are we gonna go first? To get my wand or-” but then stopped when he saw _her_ , and promptly fell in love. 

She was perfect, standing between two obviously muggle parents, but standing tall, as if she knew this was exactly where she was supposed to be. She had long red hair that curled at the tips, and as quickly as he’d seen her, she vanished into the bustling crowd. 

“-Stiles, Stiles!” his dad said, with an exasperated sigh, and Stiles got the feeling his dad had been calling his name for some time. 

He shut his gaping mouth, and said, “Sorry, what?” 

“We’ve got to go to the bank first, kiddo, muggle money won’t pay for this kind of stuff.” 

“Right!” Stiles said, and tugged at his dad’s wrist, bouncing as he started to talk about how his mother used to bring him there all the time, and kept getting distracted by the eels eyes in the window of the apothecary, and then Eeylops Owl Emporium- he was taking Striggy to school with him, since his dad didn’t need him- and his father shook his head, chuckling, as he watched Stiles race ahead of him, and go from window to window. 

A woman outside of her shop paused her sweeping to lean on her broom, and stare off after Stiles, “Yer a muggle, hmm?” she said, her voice crooning. 

He nodded, “My wife was a witch.” 

She chuckled, “A bit to take in, isn’t it?”

“As always." 

And then Stiles was done staring up at everything in wonder- because, that stuff was _cool_ \- and tugged his dad after him. “Can we go the Ice Cream Parlour? Please? Mom used to take me there when I’d come with her on shopping trips!” and then his face fell, because he knew she was gone, and he missed her every single second of every day, but sometimes it would just hit _harder_. 

“Yes- but when we’re finished,” his father said, and Stiles perked up.

“Bank now?” he said, and Stilinski nodded, and they headed into the large marble building.

Gringotts stood towering over all of the other shops, white marble columns and bronze doors. Two goblins in maroon uniforms opened the doors as Stiles followed his father into the buildings, and he looked around. Stiles much preferred muggle banks, the tellers were much nicer, and even sometimes gave him candy, rather than looking at him like he was going to steal something like the goblins did. His father stepped up to a free goblin and cleared his throat, and said, “Excuse me- I’d like to withdraw from my wife’s bank account. Claudia Stilinski.”

The goblin looked up, and Stiles saw he looked rather young, for a goblin at least. He still had an almost grouchy, wrinkled face, but he wasn’t wearing glasses and squinting like he couldn’t see, and had dark hair. He sized them up, and then said, “Do you have the key?” Stilinski nodded, and took out his key ring, taking off a little key, and handing it to the goblin. He looked at the key for a moment, and then said, “All is in order. Follow me, I am Dordrik, and I will take you to your vault.”

He hopped down, and bade them follow. They followed him down the hall to a door that opened and revealed a narrow stone corridor, with a set of railroad tracks along the floor. Dordrik whistled and Stiles heard a whirring noise, and something like wheels on a track, and then a cart whizzed over to them. Dordrik climbed in and Stiles quickly followed, his father stepping in after him. As soon as they were both inside, it started down the track at an incredible speed, making so many turns Stiles couldn’t keep up, but he tried to anyway. Finally they stopped in front of a small door in the wall.

“Never done that before,” Stilinski said, trying to steady himself. 

“Neither have I!” Stiles said excitedly, “Mom would always make me wait with the goblins!”

“For good reason,” he said, and then looked at Stiles sternly, “Now why didn’t you say anything?”

“... you never would have let me come?” Stiles said, and Stilinski sighed and shook his head.

“You’re right. But I suppose since you’re all grown up and going to that fancy wizarding school of your’s, I suppose it’s high time we start letting you ride on the magic goblin roller coaster thing.”

Dordrik shot them both a look and ushered them into the vault, after unlocking the door. “Take what you will.” The vault was medium sized, standard for a middle-class wizarding family. Inside was a decent pile of gold- both his mother’s fortune, and what she inherited from her parents when they died when Stiles was eight. 

Stepping into the vault, Stiles dad scooped up a few Galleons, Sickles and Knuts into a small bag he’d brought with him, and said, “You remember the exchange rate, don’t you?” 

“Yes dad,” Stiles said, remembering what his mom told him, “Five pounds to a Galleon, seventeen Sickles to a Galleon, twenty nine pence to a Sickle, twenty nine Knuts to a Sickle, one penny to a Knut.”

Stilinski nodded, and then looked at the bag in his hand, “This should be enough to get through school shopping, and then a little more for you to take with you to school in case you need anything.” He turned to Dordrik, and said, “I think we’re done here for now.” 

He nodded and locked the vault, the three of them climbing back into the cart, and started off towards the upper part of Gringotts. Once they were back up top, Stilinski thanked the goblin and they exited the bank. “Where do you want to do first?” he asked Stiles, who looked down at his list.

“Wands!” he said, and they started towards Ollivander’s, where his own mother had purchased her own wand. As they reached the shop, Stiles noticed that the wand on the purple cushion, the one that had been sitting in the window for as long as Stiles could remember, was missing. Someone must have finally purchased it, he thought.  

Stepping inside the shop, a pair of twins were exiting, and Ollivander turned to them and said, “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Stilinski said, “My son, Stiles, is starting at Hogwarts this year, and needs to purchase a wand.”

“Stiles, hmm, interesting name, however not quite so as Fennekin, Leeloo, or Four- I once met a particularly ruffled Hag whose mother had given up after child number two.” He shook his head, and then looked up at Stiles, fixating on his face. “But a wand- yes?” Stiles nodded. He turned to Stiles’ father, and regarded him sharply, then said, “What was your wife’s name?”

“Claudia Stilinski- er, Claudia Hughes.”

“I remember- twelve and a half inches, beech, dragon heartstring,” he said, humming. He stared at Stiles for a moment, as though he knew what he’d brought with him, and the wand seemed to grow heavy in his pant leg. Stiles had tried get it to work for him, he’d tried it a million times- but the wand chose it’s owner, not the other way around, and it had chosen his mother over twenty years before. Olivander sized him up, and then finally said, tapping his lip, "I... think I know the perfect wand." He turned and ran off to a distant corner of the shop and then to a pile of wands, pulling out one six from the bottom- a deep purple box. 

Ollivander handed the box to Stiles, who pulled open the box and... it looked just like his mom's. There were a couple noticeable differences, yeah, but... it looked just like hers- twelve and a half inches, beech, and as far as he could tell, dragon heartstring. He lifted it out of the box, and gave it a wave. It grew warm in his hand, but nothing unpleasant, and emitted an aura, and he turned to see his dad smiling. 

Ollivander clapped his hands, “I see I was correct! Beech is best suited to those young, but wise beyond their years, or when older, rich in understanding and experience. Do not disappoint my wand, Mr. Stilinski,” Ollivander said, fixing his pale stare on him, and Stiles nearly shivered. 

“No sir,” Stiles said, and paid the man, hurrying out of the shop where he broke into a grin and turned to his dad, “Did you see that? I did magic! I did real magic!” Stiles said waving his wand around. 

“You sure did, Stiles- now, where to next?” 

Stiles looked down at the list, “Hmm, robes?”

“Lead the way!” Stilinski said, and followed his son ahead to Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions where Stiles was fitted for his school robes, then to Flourish and Blotts where he got all of his school books and an additional two he thought were interesting, and then quills and ink, and finally his things for potions. By the time they were finished, all thoughts of visiting the ice cream parlour were abandoned, and Stiles had six books piled in his arms. His dad was struggling with the pewter cauldron in his arms, full of potion’s supplies, the other four books, and the brass scales and telescope required for first years. Stiles’ robes were draped over his father’s arm, and his wand was in his other shoe. When they waddled over to the community fireplaces, the few people in line chuckled and let them pass, even throwing a handful of Floo powder into the fire place for them, where they only had to step in and say their address.

\---

The drive to King’s Cross on September first was almost tense- Stiles was incredibly excited, but he was also going to really miss his dad. He stared out the window the entire trip, opening his mouth nearly half a dozen times in the short time it took them to get to the train station. His father parked the car, and soon, they were pushing Stiles’ cart, loaded with his trunk and Striggy’s cage, towards Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Once they arrived between platforms, they waited as an older boy ran through the barrier. Stiles stood on the left, his father on the right, as they ran and pushed the cart through the barrier, appearing on the other side.  

A scarlet steam engine loomed over the crowd of people wishing off their children and groups of friends talking on the platform. Stiles turned to his dad. He wasn’t going to cry, he wasn’t. He was just going away till winter, then he’d see his dad again. “Make sure you eat vegetables, not that fried stuff you like, it’s not good for your heart, and don’t drink too much- and remember that Striggy’s gonna wait around till you write me back and he’s probably gonna want a treat so I left you some in the desk drawer and-”

His dad chuckled, but he looked like he might start tearing up too, so Stiles didn’t feel so bad. “Who’s the parent here, huh?” and then hugged Stiles, who hugged him back tightly. “Don’t get in trouble, don’t sneak out to go to any crime scenes- I don’t even know how you managed that the first time- and just- be good Stiles.”

Stiles was about to scoff and say _he was always good_ , but then he said, “Okay. I think I have to go now, I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Stiles,” he said, and hugged him again, and waved Stiles off as Stiles boarded the train.  

“I’ll write you!” Stiles called as he dragged his trunk to one of the train doors. He turned behind him to look at the steps and then looked back at his trunk. He put Striggy’s cage inside, and tried to lift the trunk up, with his scrawny eleven year old arms. Striggy hooted, and Stiles shot him a glare, and grumbled, “Don’t look at me like that.” 

“Need help with that?” someone asked, making Stiles look up. An older boy was standing in front of him- Stiles suspected he was either a sixth or seventh year- with his arms crossed. He had dark hair and green eyes, and hadn’t changed into his robes yet, like Stiles. He was going to change on the train because his dad reminded him that they were supposed to keep magic a secret, and robes weren’t exactly inconspicuous.

“Yeah, thanks!” he said, and took one side of the trunk, while the older boy took the other end, and they lifted it into the compartment.  

“No problem,” he huffed, and pushed the trunk in a little farther. He nodded to Stiles, who was climbing in after the trunk, then turned and headed down the train to a different door. 

Stiles pulled his cart down the hall till he saw a mostly empty compartment, where another boy his age was sitting and staring out the window. The door was open, so Stiles stepped in, and said, “Hey, is this compartment free?”

The boy turned towards him, and his face lit up with a grin, “Yeah, yeah sure!”

Stiles groaned and pulled the trunk inside, and moved it to the corner of the compartment, towards the other boy’s. Stiles turned his head to read the name written on the top of the trunk. It was in neat, almost pretty handwriting, so his mom probably wrote it. “Scott McCall,” he read. 

“Hi,” he said, still grinning. 

“I’m Stiles Stilinski,” Stiles said, plopping down across from him, both of them sitting near the window. 

Scott peered out the window, “Can you believe we’re actually going to Hogwarts? We have magic wands and we’re going to get to do spells, and I mean, I don’t really like being away from my mom but I’m sure she’ll be fine, right?”

Stiles nodded, peering out the window. His dad was chatting with a woman in a long sweater and jeans, her long curly hair pulled back. She looked like she was laughing, and he was grinning. He looked up, and saw Stiles and Scott watching, and he waved. “Yeah, I know the feeling. I don’t really wanna be away from my dad either,” he said, sitting back, “but I can’t wait! My mom was always pretty good at Herbology and Charms and I hope I am too.” 

Scott was nodding along, when his stomach growled, and he looked up, “Sorry. I didn’t eat this morning, I was too excited. 

“I think my dad packed me a snack,” Stiles said, “I’m kinda hungry too. I ate pretty early.” Stiles rifled around in his bag for a snack, and pulled out a little red and white striped box, "Oh my god I have the best dad _ever_!" Stiles said, scooting up to the edge of the seat, "My mom used to bring them home!"  
  
"So... your mom's a witch?" Scott said, looking interested.  
  
Stiles' face fell. "She was. She, um, got some wizarding disease a year ago, and passed away a couple of months ago."  
  
"Oh," Scott said, "I’m sorry. I had no idea I was a wizard. My mom isn't, but she thinks my dad might have been."  
  
"Might have been?"  
  
"Yeah he left us when I was two," he shrugged. Stiles offered the bag out to him, and Scott took a few, popping one into his mouth, and scrunching up his nose. “What kind of jelly beans are these?”  
  
Stiles laughed, "Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. What flavor did you get?"  
  
"Toenail. They really come in every flavor, don’t they?"  
  
Stiles nodded, and pulled one out of the bag that was a light purple, "Ooh how much you wanna bet this is aubergine?"  
  
"Aubergine?"  
  
Stiles started chewing on it, and then spit it out into his hand, "Gross, it's wolfsbane!"  
  
Scott scrunched up his nose, "How do you know what wolfsbane tastes like?"  
  
"They're enchanted so you know what they are once you've tasted them. That's what my mom said, anyway. She worked in the Ministry of Magic," Stiles said proudly, Scott nodded along.  
  
"My mom's a nurse," he said.  
  
Stiles scooted to the edge of his seat, "A regular nurse? Or one at St. Mungo's?"  
  
Scott looked at him, "What's St. Mungo's?" 

Stiles opened his mouth to answer Scott, but the door slid open, hitting the frame with a loud shutter, and both of them turned their heads to the door. A blonde girl who looked about their age was standing in the doorway, a fluffy cat in her arms, with a bigger black boy behind her, who looked like he was carrying both of their luggages. She said, her accent Scottish, “I’m Erica. This is Boyd,” she thumbed behind her, releasing one of her arms, and then put it back around her cat. She marched in, and said, “This’ll do. Move over,” she ordered Stiles, who reluctantly did, squishing into the side of the compartment as Erica spread out over the seat. 

Boyd followed in after her, the door shutting behind him. He put his owl’s cage on the ground at Erica’s feet, and started to put their bags in the rack above the seats. He sat down next to Erica, and he crossed his arms, making Stiles wish he had more room to scoot over. Scott, though, sat up, and grinned brightly at them, “Hi, I’m Scott,” he said. 

“I’m Stiles,” Stiles said, and Erica turned to them and flashed them a grin. Neither of them had changed into their uniforms yet, like both he and Scott.  

“Hi,” Boyd said, speaking for the first time. Okay, he didn’t actually sound as scary as he looked, his accent was the same as Erica’s, Stiles figured they probably met before the train. Stiles looked out the window at the clock on the station’s wall, and saw that it was a quarter to eleven. All of the late arrivals, and the people who had been lingering on the platform were starting to board. 

“Did you two know each other before meeting on the platform?” Scott asked.

Boyd nodded, “We met yesterday. Apparently we’ve been neighbors for years. Erica’s mom was having trouble stuffing her trunk in the back of their car, and Erica was parading around with her cat,” she flashed them a grin, and stroked her cat’s head.

“And Boyd offered to help and asked if I was going to Hogwarts too, and here we are,” she finished for him. 

A moment later, there was a light knocking on the door, instead of the door simply being opened. The boy on the other side of the door didn’t seem like he was planning on entering until someone said something, so Scott looked around, and then called out tentatively, “Come in?” 

The door was pushed open, and a skinny boy with wild curly hair stepped in, carrying the scraggliest, oldest owl Stiles had ever seen. He didn’t even know owls could live that long. Either it had been in his family for _years_ , or he’d bought it _extremely_ second handedly. Judging by the state of his robes, it was probably the latter. He wasn’t judging, he promised, he was just observing. His brain just kinda went wild sometimes. The boy rubbed the back of his head sheepishly and asked, “Is there a seat open?”  

His expression was wided eyed and blown open and he looked like he was about to be told _no, go somewhere else_ , even though there was clearly an empty seat and Scott’s bleeding heart made him scoot over and say, “Yes, of course.”  

As soon as Boyd and Scott helped the boy move his things over to the quickly growing mound in the corner, and the boy introduced himself as Isaac, a girl was knocking on the frame, the door still open. Her cheeks were flushed pink, because she’d been recognized as the deputy headmaster’s daughter in all the other compartments she’d passed and had to travel through the entire train to find one where she _wasn’t_. Standing there in the doorway, feeling slightly awkward, she asked, “Is that seat-” she said, pointing to the space between Isaac and Scott. 

Scott, who’d been gaping up at her, quickly nodded, “Yeah- yeah,” he said, and scooted over to the corner, so she could sit next to him. 

She flashed him a smile, and pushed her long wavy hair behind her ear, and said, “I’m Allison.”

“Scott,” Scott said, grinning at her shyly.

“Isaac,” Isaac nodded. 

“I’m Stiles.”

“I’m Boyd, that’s Erica,” Boyd said, and she smiled.

The door to the compartment was pushed open again, and a blond boy, followed by a brunet, stepped into the compartment, “I want my own seat,” he demanded. “Or at least most of one, move over. All of the other compartments were completely full. I _told_ my mother to leave earlier,” he said, as if he expected everyone to be sympathetic of him. 

The other boy sighed, and shook his head, "Sit down asshole,” sitting down next to Stiles. He held out his hand as they all stared at him, because he _cursed_ , and said, "I’m Danny. That’s Jackson."  

"I’m Stiles," he said, shaking Danny’s hand. He’d never really shaken the hand of someone his own age before, that was rather grown up. Well, he _was_ going off to Hogwarts. Jackson huffed, and pushed his trunk next to the others, and sat down next to Isaac, Allison giving him a sympathetic smile.

“I’m Scott,” Scott said, “That’s Allison,” he pointed, and she gave a little wave, “Erica,” she only half looked up, unimpressed, “Boyd, and Isaac.”

“I’m really getting tired of introducing myself,” Stiles sighed, “Maybe I should get ‘Stiles’ tattoed on my forehead.” 

“Maybe!” Scott said, “I think I want to get a tattoo when I’m older.” 

There was another knock on the door, a redhead girl this time, and Stiles recognized her as the girl from Diagon Alley. It was fate! 

Erica called cheerfully, “Come in!"

Jackson hissed, “There’s already eight people in here.” 

She shot him a grin, and said, “She can sit with you.”

The girl said, with a thick Irish accent and her head held high, "Is there any room?"  

Allison smiled and said, "Sure!"  

Scott hurried to squish into the wall because _Allison_ , and so the girl sat down, making it five people to a row, and it was nearly uncomfortable, but they were skinny, eleven, and fit. 

Stiles was practically falling all over himself to introduce himself to her, “I’m- I’m Stiles-” he said.

“I’m Lydia Martin,” she said, setting her owl’s cage at her feet, “Stay still, Prada, you know how you get when you travel.”

“Jackson,” Jackson said turning to her, his scowl turning into a sly grin, she being the first person he’d seemed interest in the slightest in the compartment, other than Danny.  

The rest of the group introduced themselves, and the train started up, parents waving their goodbyes, kids hanging out the window. Stiles yelled goodbye to his dad, and Erica and Boyd got the window for a moment, yelling goodbye to their parents and Boyd’s little sister, and then Allison peeked out the window, and waved at her mom. Lydia stayed poised in her seat, looking at her nails, and Isaac had slouched back.  

Jackson had crossed his arms, and sighed, “I can’t believe I’m stuck with all of you. This is going to be a long trip.”

\---

Contrary to Jackson’s belief, the group ended up having a good time. A few people in the compartment expressed their worries that they were going to be behind, because they hadn’t practiced anything before starting school. But once they all said they were a bit worried- except for Jackson, who only expressed his superiority, and Lydia, who said she’d read all of the school books already- everyone seemed to realize that no one knew anything hardly at all, and they weren’t alone. Erica’s cat, Seline, got loose at one point, jumping from lap to lap, until she finally ended up on an upper rack and fell asleep, and then at about twelve thirty, the trolley stopped by. 

A smiling woman opened the door to their compartment, and said, “Anything off the cart?” 

Boyd, Allison, Jackson and Danny stood up immediately, and formed a little line, Jackson getting both pumpkin juice and Cauldron Cakes, Danny just getting a couple of Chocolate Frogs, and Allison getting a whole pile of Licorice Wands. When it was Boyd’s turn, Erica called, “Get me some Pumpkin Pasties- and Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum!” He got a few things, paid the woman, and sat back down, after shutting the door. 

“No, Todd!” Scott suddenly said, reaching forward as something leaped out of his pocket, and in Stiles’ direction. Stiles nearly jumped, but looked down and saw that a toad had jumped into his lap.

Stiles picked it up, and said, “Uh, hi, Todd,” handing it back to Scott. Allison smiled as Scott put it back in his pocket, and offered him a Licorice Wand. He took it, and smiled at her.

“Thanks, Stiles,” Scott said, breathing a sigh of relief. “My mom’s not a witch and she wanted me to have a pet, and so I got Todd,” he explained.

“So,” Danny said, “what about all of you guys?”

“What about us?” Erica said, leaning on Boyd’s shoulder, stealing his pumpkin pasties from his lap. He just let her. 

“Are your parents wizards? Where are you from?” Jackson shot out. Erica stuck her tongue out at him. 

“Boyd and I are from Hawick, Scotland,” she said, as if her accent wasn’t obvious enough. “We lived in the same neighborhood our entire lives, and we didn’t know it. And then suddenly I’m about to leave, and he comes right up and introduces himself!” she said, stuffing another pasty in her mouth. “My mom’s a squib,” she said, swallowing, “She was really proud when I started showing signs of magic. She even cried on the platform,” she said, shrugging. 

“My parents are muggles,” Boyd said, taking a pastie for himself.

“My mom was a wizard,” Stiles said, “My dad is a DI in Scotland Yard.”

Isaac said, “Neither of my parents were magic, I don’t think. My dad certainly isn’t. It’s just another reason for him to think I’m a freak,” he said, shrugging. Allison patted his leg, and gave him a sympathetic smile.

“My parents are both magic, we come from pretty far down the line,” she said, a small, sheepish smile on her face. _A nice way to say her family was pureblood,_ Stiles noticed. “We live in Yorkshire, most of the time. Although we moved there a couple of years ago, from Wales, and before that, Edinburgh,” she said.

“Well, my family is pureblood,” Jackson said proudly. “I live in Falmouth- you know, home of the Falmouth Falcons. My father was on the team till I was nine. Now he manages them.”

“He was adopted,” Danny scoffed, and rolled his eyes when Jackson glared. “His birth parents were both wizards, though. Mine were too, but they were both born from muggle parents. I live over in Falmouth with Jackson.”

“What about you Lydia?” Danny prompted.

“My parents are muggles. Mostly. I’m from Kildare, Ireland.”

“Mostly?” But Lydia didn’t say another word on it.

Danny started opening the chocolate frogs he bought, and the first one managed to escape him as he looked down at his card- Circe, Stiles had two at home- jumping over to the window. “Oh no you don’t!” he said, grabbing it. 

Scott scrunched up his nose, “Is that alive?” 

Allison shook her head, “No, they’re just magic, don’t worry.”

He shook his head, “I don’t think I’ll be eating any of those.”

She laughed, and offered him another Licorice Wand, and then one to Isaac and Lydia, the latter turning it down. 

A few minutes later, with a few of them holding conversations between themselves or looking out the window, Danny took out his rat and let it run up and down his arm, "What's his name?" Scott asked. He’d always really liked animals, and maybe wanted to work as a vet or something one day, before he’d found out that all those weird things he’d done as a child, like turning the padlock on the neighbor’s fence into a frog, really meant he was a wizard.

"I haven't named him yet," Danny said, watching him scurry down his arm to his hand. He glanced up at Jackson, "I think I might name him Jackson." 

Jackson blanched, "Keep that thing away from me if you want to keep it." Danny snickered, putting Jackson the rat back in his pocket. 

“Jackson it is.”

\---

Eventually, they decided, that since they were nearly at the school they’d better change. The girls left to change in a different compartment, while the boys changed in theirs. After about twenty minutes, the girls came back, and sat back down.  

“How long do you think it’s going to be till we get there?” Stiles asked, looking out the window. It was already getting dark, but it was still light enough to see the shapes of things outside. The lights in the train had come on almost an hour ago.

“Probably not too long, right? It’s only in Scotland,” Danny said.  

A moment later, the door slid open, and a seventh year girl stuck her head in, her long dark hair sweeping down. She flashed them a wolfish grin- Stiles didn’t know why, but when she smiled, he really did get the impression that a wolf was staring right at him- and looked around the compartment. “Hi, I’m Laura Hale,” she said, “And I’m this year’s Head Girl! I’m also a Gryffindor Prefect, and if your head is spinning and you don’t know what any of that means, don’t worry, someone will explain it to you when you arrive!” She smiled again, still wolfish, and asked, “Are you guys doing alright?”

Most of them nodded, and Stiles said, “Yep!”

She flashed him a grin, and said, “We’re nearly there, so I’m glad to see you’ve all changed into your uniforms.”

She disappeared for a moment, and then called out to somebody, “Oh we are?” and then stuck her head back inside. “It looks like we’re here! I’ll see you all at Hogwarts!”

\--- 

A voice came over the entire train, “We have reached Hogwarts. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.”

Stiles looked around. He was okay with leaving his trunk- it was just a trunk, he could always get a new one if something happened, not that he expected anything to, really, this was _Hogwarts_ \- but he was rather hesitant to leave Striggy. Danny still had Jackson the rat in his pocket, and Scott’s pocket was looking rather bouncy, but Striggy was kinda big to fit in his pocket, so he reluctantly left him on the seat, and shuffled out into the hallway with Scott by his side.

They managed to get out onto the tiny platform, where a black, bald man with a torch was saying, “First years, first years this way!” he yelled, and once it seemed everyone was there, he yelled, “This way, first years! Mind your step!” and lead them down a path, where he said, “Right about- ah, yes, here’s your first view of Hogwarts.” 

Stiles heard the first years collectively gasp- himself included. The castle- and it really was a castle, not a modern palace- with high towers and lit windows, illuminated the black lake, where about fifteen little boats were docked. The man said, “Everyone into a boat, no more than four to a boat,” and climbed in one himself. Stiles and Scott, who were following him closely, stepped into his. There wasn’t any more room, since the man was a full-grown adult, and was probably the size of two first years, so the other kids piled into the other ones. Stiles didn’t see where the other kids he’d met on the train were sitting, but soon enough, the man said, “Everyone ready? Forward!” he commanded, and the boats started on across the black lake. 

Stiles and Scott stared up in wonder, as they passed under a curtain of ivy. “Um, Mister-” Scott started. 

“Professor Deaton,” the man supplied.

“-Professor Deaton,” Scott said, in wonder, “Do we get to do this every year?” 

Professor Deaton chuckled, and said, “No, just this once.” They’d reached the bank underneath the school, and he stepped out of the boat, the trail of students following behind him, up the steps and to giant oak doors, where he knocked loudly. 

They were opened seconds later, by a man in his late thirties, with sandy hair and blue eyes. He was smiling proudly at them, and Deaton said, “The first years, Chris.”

Chris nodded, and said, “Thank you, Alan, I’ll take it from here. I’ll see you at the feast,” and Deaton stepped past him, and disappeared into the building. “Follow me,” he said, leading them into a hall, where he stopped, and faced them, looking over them, and meeting the eyes of all of the students. At one point, he lingered on one person behind Stiles, and widened his grin, looking particularly proud. Of who, or what, he didn’t know.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Chris said, raising his arms in flourish, then bringing them back down. “I’m Professor Argent, professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Deputy Headmaster to the school. Momentarily,” he said, “the start-of-term feast will begin, but preceding that is the Sorting Ceremony. There are four houses here at Hogwarts- Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. Each house produces great wizards, set to different standards, but no more great or less than another. 

“While attending here, these houses will be your home, where you sleep, with whom you eat, and the places you spend your free time. When you succeed, you will earn house points, when you commit wrongs, you will lose them. They go towards winning the house cup at the end of the year,” he smiled one final time, and said, “Good luck. I’ll come back when we’re ready for you.” He turned around, his black robes swishing, their red lining peeking out.

Stiles turned to Scott, just as everyone else started up a low murmur, “Do you think it’ll be hard?” 

“What’ll be hard?” Scott said, looking down from where he was peering at the castle. 

“The Sorting Ceremony!”

“Oh I don’t know,” Scott said, “I think he’s coming back-” he said, and nudged Stiles shoulder, as Professor Argent stepped back into the hall.

“Follow me,” he said, leading them up a set of stairs, then to a pair of great doors, and into the Great Hall. Everyone was watching them, but Stiles was looking everywhere else _but_ at them- how could they look away from everything in the room? The ceiling was enchanted to look like the night sky, and candles bobbed freely in the air above the four tables laden with glittering silverware and dishes. Argent lead the fifty new students to a place in front of the teachers- thirteen sitting with the headmaster, and facing the other students. 

Professor Argent placed a small, four-legged stool in front of them, and then placed a dirty, worn hat on top of it. Stiles peered at it from where he stood, nearly at the end of the line. For a few moments, the entire room was silent, and then the hat perked up. _The hat perked up_. He turned as though it were looking at all of the tables, and then a tear opened near the brim, like a mouth, and started to sing.

“A cap of silver,

A bonnet of gold, 

Could never beat,

This hat so old.

For I have seen the men,

Who’s names adorn these walls,

The women who stood tall,

And let out the first calls.

Brave, brave Gryffindor,

Who may stand behind you,

Bold and strong,

Even when all others are through;

Mighty Slytherin,

With ambition like water in a pond,

Sees only the great, 

And will never be conned;

Oh wise Ravenclaw,

Let not words flow from your maw,

When you speak only in riddles and rhymes,

Without thinking of others in time;

Loyalist Hufflepuffs,

Will stand with you till the end,

Needless of askance,

Or assurance of wins.

Don’t be afraid,

Step only nearer,

I won’t bite,

I can’t be any clearer!”

The crowd burst into applause, and it bowed to all four tables, but Stiles was still staring at the hat like it was crazy. That was an _awful_ song, but, he guessed, they didn’t want to disappoint it?

Professor Argent stepped forward, holding a rolled up parchment, and said, “When I call your name, please step forward, sit on the stool, and place the hat on your head to get started.” He smiled reassuringly, and then started calling out names. Stiles was almost bouncing- he really hoped for Gryffindor, he’d heard they were best and the bravest, and his mother had been one herself. But Ravenclaw didn’t sound too bad either, he supposed, disregarding the song. 

“Anderson, Heather!” he called out, and a blonde girl stepped forward, sitting on the stool, hat placed on her head. Stiles recognized her- they’d been childhood playmates, their mothers old school friends. He hadn’t seen her since the funeral. The hat took nearly twenty seconds to decide.

“HUFFLEPUFF,” the hat shouted, and she hopped off to her new table, which welcomed her with open arms.

Professor Argent was positively beaming when he called the next name, “Argent, Allison.” She was looking down, nearly blushing as she took her seat. _The Deputy Headmaster’s daughter_ , Stiles thought. 

As soon at the hat was placed on her head, maybe ten seconds later, it yelled out, “GRYFFINDOR!” and she was beaming, stepping towards a cheering table, where people were patting her on the back and cheering, saying they would expect anything else from their head of house’s daughter. 

“Boyd, Vernon,” was called next, and he looked murderous all the way up there.

“GRYFFINDOR!” was shouted nearly immediately, going to sit across from Allison. 

“Brimble, Arthur.”

“GRYFFINDOR!” 

“Callahan, Braeden.” 

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Daehler, Matt.”

“SLYTHERIN!” the hat shouted, and having been the first Slytherin of the night, the Slytherin table exploded with cheers, welcoming him.

“Faure, Danielle.” 

“HUFFLEPUFF!” She went to go sit next to her friend, Heather.

“Hale, Cora,” was called, her long brown hair loose on her shoulders, and Stiles wondered if she was the younger sister of the Laura Hale they’d met on the train.

“GRYFFINDOR!” she flashed them a grin, and went to sit next to two people at the end of the table, almost isolated from the rest of the table. One of the people _was_ the girl from the train, hugging her sister, and the other- was the boy who’d helped him with his trunk. _Another Hale?_ Stiles wondered. And why were they so far apart from the others? 

It wasn’t so much of a physical separation, even though there was a slight one of those, as though the people sitting on that end of the table purposely move their plates away to the point where they wouldn’t feel too close to them, without ostracizing them completely. And then there was the way everyone was acting at the end of the table- as though the three didn’t exist, after Cora was sorted, and others continued on being sorted, like they were at a table of their own.

“Jones, Caitlin,” he said, and Stiles wasn’t sure how long he’d zoned out for. The line was thinner than it had been before. 

“RAVENCLAW!”

A few more were sorted until someone Stiles recognized was being called, “Lahey, Isaac.” Isaac glanced nervously at the chair, like he expected to be told it was all a mistake, and then stepped over, taking a seat. He placed the hat on his head, and after a few seconds, was sorted.

“HUFFLEPUFF!” He looked relieved as he stepped towards the Hufflepuff table, hands in his pockets, trying to appear smaller, but a smile on his face. 

“Mahealani, Daniel,” was next and sat for a few moments. He was very nearly sorted into Slytherin, with consideration to Gryffindor too, but then the sorting hat decided against it. 

“RAVENCLAW!”

Then next up- “Martin, Lydia.” She stepped forward, and sat on the stool, and had the hat placed upon her head. She was very nearly a hatstall, sitting there for nearly three minutes, the hat deciding between her heart and her brain, eventually letting her choose.

“RAVENCLAW!” she hopped off the stool, and walked towards her new table with a smile on her face, and her head held high. She sat next to Danny, and the two of them watched the rest of the sortings. 

“McCall, Scott,” was called, and he took a deep breath.

“Good luck, buddy,” Stiles whispered, and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Thanks,” he said, and stepped over to the hat, sitting down. For a moment, the hat briefly considered sorting him into Gryffindor, but then the hat announced otherwise.

“HUFFLEPUFF.”

A few more people were sorted, then another face Stiles recognized, “Reyes, Erica.” She flashed the tables a grin, as if she already knew where she was going to be sorted, and then sat down with her legs crossed. 

“SLYTHERIN!” it called, and she smirked, like it was exactly what she was expecting, and slid over to her table, where she was welcomed like the parting of seas.

One or two more were called, then- “Stilinski, Stiles.” He let out a sigh of relief that they got his letter asking them to refer to him as Stiles while at school. His head was buzzing with excitement, and he couldn’t remember if he’d remembered to take his adderall that morning, but at that point he didn’t care. He practically bounded over to the Sorting Hat, and put it on. 

After a moment, it said in his ear, “Hmmm, difficult. You possess outstanding loyalty, worthy of a Hufflepuff, but- bravery and acceptance of Gryffindor himself. Ah, yes, I think you would make a much better GRYFFINDOR!” it shouted, and Stiles grinned as the Gryffindor table started cheering, not deterred the slightest in their cheering by the fact they’d already received several new students. His gaze briefly flicked to the end of the table where the trio were sitting, but then Allison was calling his name, and he moved to sit by the familiar face smiling up at him. 

After Stiles, there were only a few more first years left to be sorted. “Swern, James,” was called next, and was sorted into Gryffindor, coming to sit a few people down from Stiles, then, “West, Emily,” joined Heather and Danielle at Hufflepuff.

Finally it was the last of the familiar faces, “Whittemore, Jackson,” he smirked as he sat, eyeing the Slytherin table. The hat hadn’t nearly touched his head when it called out.

“SLYTHERIN!”

And that was the end of the sorting, Professor Argent rolled up the scroll again, and whisked both the chair and the Sorting Hat away. Then, the headmaster stood up. It was the first time Stiles had really gotten a good look at the head table. Most of the teachers were, surprisingly, rather young. There were a few older ones, such as a plump, redhead woman, who was probably in her fifties, and a thin, tall man, with salt and pepper hair. The headmaster, who was in a bright blue robe, waited for a moment, and said, “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Now, let the feast begin!” 

And with that, food magically appeared on the table. Every kind of chicken, and beef, steaks, potatoes, fries, puddings, vegetables like carrots and beans, meat pies, sausages, and farther down the tables, there were salads and rolls. It didn’t just look delicious, it looked magical, and Stiles- like the rest of the table- couldn’t wait to start. Stiles piled his plate high; much higher than he could ever hope to eat, because there was plenty for everyone, so he didn’t mind taking as much as he _wanted_ to be able to eat. 

Everyone was talking at the table- a few people were talking about their parents, lessons, and asking what their friends did over the summer. Boyd still looked furious at his name being used, so Stiles joked, “Hey, your name isn’t nearly as bad as my name!”

Boyd looked at him, “Your name is _Stiles_.”

“Actually, it’s not, and _no_ , I will not tell you what it really is. I just asked the headmaster to call me by my nickname.”

Allison looked up from her corn, wiping her hands on the napkin in her lap, “It’s really not that bad, Boyd, I promise." 

He shook his head, and muttered, “You should hear my full name.” She smiled at him, and a moment later, as everyone was nearly finished eating, the dishes transformed into sweets. Cakes, eclairs, puddings, pies- there were bowls of ice cream, bars of chocolates. Stiles had never seen so many sweets on a single table in his entire life. There was probably more than in the candy shop in Diagon Alley. 

Piling things on his plate- a slice of cake, a dollop of pudding, a scoop of ice cream- Stiles turned to Allison, “So, your dad is the deputy headmaster?” Stiles asked, taking a bite out of a piece of shortcake.

Allison nodded, but then quickly said, “He’s not going to give me special treatment or anything!” shaking her head.  

After a few minutes, Stiles feeling incredibly full, the sweets disappeared too, and the headmaster stood up again. He cleared his throat, and said, “Now, the start-of-term notices: the Forbidden Forest is off limits to all students, all years. And secondly, quidditch trials will be held the second week of the term. Speak with Coach Finstock if you wish to try for your team. Now, off to bed.” 

“First years this way!” a sixth year said, standing up. He had a little silver P pinned to his shirt.  

“Must be a prefect,” Allison whispered, standing up. Stiles and Boyd followed after her. They followed the prefect, who introduced himself as Rupert Birtwistle. Following him up to Gryffindor tower was certainly interesting. All the paintings moved, which Stiles was only a little used to. His mother had a picture of her parents, but they were too conspicuous to display out in the open when his dad had muggle friends stopping by.  

When they’d neared the entrance, a stream of ghosts came swooping by, making several students scream, and Stiles felt queasy when one ran right through him. At the entrance, the password Rupert told the fat lady was ‘hedwig’. 

Stepping into the common room, Rupert said, “This will be the place where you spend your free time, study, and this,” he pointed to the staircases, “is where you’re going to sleep. Boys on this side, girls on the other. Good night.”

Stiles and Boyd, along with three other boys, went up one side, while Allison went up the other, with a few others following. They found their trunks had already arrived, and it being late, and such a tiring day, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed. He was wondering about his other friends- Scott and Lydia especially. What were their common rooms like? Did they look like this, just in yellow or blue? Stiles fell asleep thinking about them, and what the possibility of tomorrow was going to bring. 

\---

The first day of classes started with Defense Against the Dark Arts, with Hufflepuff, being taught by Allison’s dad. She’d sat at the back of the class, trying to avoid being called on. Then, along with another two times a week, they had Herbology with the Ravenclaws, which was taught by Harry Dippet, the older man Stiles had seen at the Head Table. 

They also had Transfiguration, which was taught by the Slytherin head of house, Emma Vanity. She looked every bit of the Slytherin she was, long black hair and sharp green eyes, and a cat perched on her desk. She smiled at them, and then turned her cat, Stark, into a chair, that she had one of the students sit in. Apparently, it was very chair-like. Solid. Wicker-y. (The kid was from a muggle family. He was still amazed magic exists.) 

She then said, “I am the Slytherin head of house. I may, at times, show favoritism towards my own students, as all of your head of houses will, but I will not tolerate bigotry, narrow mindedness, or mistreatment of your fellow students, especially from my own students,” she said, her sharp gaze meeting with various students, including Stiles and Jackson, the latter of whom rolled his eyes. “Ah, Mr. Whittemore, thank you for volunteering.” She then proceeded to have him demonstrate the spell to turn a match into a needle. It didn’t do anything, and he returned to his seat, red-faced. 

Erica leaned over and whispered, “I like her.” By the end of the class, no one had even made the matches look slightly pointed.  

The same day, they had History of Magic, again with the Slytherins, and Stiles nearly fell asleep in the class it was so boring. It was being taught by a ghost, which was cool at first, but then everyone realized that he was just as boring as the subject he taught. 

Stiles had Charms with the Ravenclaws, which was taught by Professor Meredith Kettlewig, the plump redheaded woman from the Head Table, and Hufflepuff head of house. As she was instructing them, Stiles noticed Lydia’s wand for the first time. He said, recognizing it, “Hey, Lydia, is that the wand from Ollivander’s window?” 

She flicked it in his face, and said, proudly, “Yes it is,” and then proceeded to complete the charm she was attempting with flourish. Kettlewig actually clapped. She was possibly the only one in their entire year who knew anything. Stiles was pretty sure he loved her. 

Stiles’ last class on Tuesday was Flying Lessons, taught by Coach Finstock, who, by the end of the lesson, Stiles was sure was actually insane. Halfway through teaching the lesson about how to call their broomsticks, he started yelling, “No, Greenberg, no questions. Just pick up your broom! Say up!” and ran off to the side, waving his wand.

A few people looked around and Stiles whispered to Scott, "I don't remember there being a Greenberg at the sorting." 

Scott, who’d been looking around too, said, “There wasn’t. Maybe he failed before?” 

Stiles shrugged, and then held his hand over his broom, yelling, “Up!” It didn’t move.

Scott tried it, yelling, “Up!” It didn’t work for him either. Stiles was staring it down, hoping to intimidate it into submission, while he commanded it. After a while, Stiles got it, then Scott, as well as most of the other students. By the end of the lesson, they were flying- even if it was just a few feet in the air- and it was amazing- Stiles was pretty sure he never wanted to walk again. Scott thought it was fun, and couldn’t wait to be allowed to have a broom of his own. 

Stiles did not like potions. It was taught by Professor Harris, who had been a Ravenclaw when he went to Hogwarts, but he and Scott figured something must have gone horribly wrong, because if Stiles had been the Sorting Hat, he certainly would have sorted him into Slytherin. He started the class by separating them all into partners- Scott and Stiles, Allison and Isaac, and then Boyd and Cora. Allison seemed to be decent at potion making, but she was the only one. Isaac stared around, lost, as Allison crushed snake fangs, and Scott attempted to figure out how to light the fire. 

Stiles was weighing dried nettles when Professor Harris came up behind him, and said, with a sigh, “Mr. Stilinski,” making Stiles jump and spill the nettles all over the floor. Stiles scrambled after them, and Harris said, with another sigh, “I was hoping that this year you would all be competent, at least. I am disappointed I was wrong.” 

Midnight on Wednesday, all first years met atop the Astronomy Tower, for Astronomy. When Scott and Stiles arrived, the teacher, Professor Cassiopeia Grinspun, who was wearing long, flowy robes, was already there, looking up at the stars. She spent the entire first class pointing out the different constellations, and telling the history of each. Her class was okay, Stiles supposed, but Allison and Lydia left the class disliking it. 

\---

Once the initial excitement wore off, Stiles started noticing a little more about the school- for one, there was a poltergeist, two, Stiles had never actually seen a Greenberg, and none of his friends ever had either, and three, there was something about those three Stiles saw at the end of the Gryffindor table. Something that no one really seemed to talk about, but everyone apparently seemed to know. From what he’d seen, the older girl- Laura- only had a few friends, and maybe a boyfriend, he wasn’t really sure, and the younger girl, Cora, didn’t seem to have any friends, but she seemed to be warding them off with a glare any time anyone got close to her. The only person she didn’t really seem to mind was Boyd, and Stiles was pretty sure they had become friends. So she had one friend, at least.

But the boy- Stiles didn’t even know his name. He hadn’t seen him in the common room once, even though he knew he was a Gryffindor like his siblings, and he was sure they were siblings, they all looked incredibly alike. But he was determined to figure out what was up with them. 

So at dinner that night, Stiles leaned over to Rupert and asked, “Who are those three at the end of the table? Why don’t they ever sit closer?”

Rupert looked up from his chicken, and quickly swallowed, looking around before leaning in, “Those are the Hales- they’re werewolves.”

“Werewolves!” Stiles yelled out, causing a few people to glance in their direction, before resuming their meal. Rupert shushed him.

“Yes, werewolves, the whole lot of them,” he said, “Everyone knows it. The Hale family has been a family of werewolves for generations. It shouldn’t pass down through the bloodline like that, but for some reason it does with them. The older one is Laura, she’s okay for a werewolf, I guess,” he said, “her brother is Derek, he’s a sixth year like me, but he didn’t want to be friends with us, even before we knew what he was. I think Paige may like him, but he doesn’t even act like he wants to be friends,” he shrugged, “and the younger girl is Cora. I don’t know much about her, she’s in your year. Most people are scared of them. I get why- if they bite you during a full moon, you turn. And even when it isn’t a full moon, they can get really violent. You should see Laura on the pitch.”

Watching them from his end of the table, Stiles felt drawn to the mysterious Derek, who’d seemed nice enough when helping him get his luggage on the train, but now looked like Broody McBrooderson. After dinner, he went straight to the library, and checked out at least ten books that had any sort of information on werewolves. 

\---

He struggled back to the room later that night, mumbling to himself how he really wished wizards knew how to use internet. He stayed up all night reading about werewolves, and the next morning, his roommates- Boyd, Arthur Brimble, Clive Kerr, and James Swern- all woke up to paper littered around his bed, books piled everywhere, and a mostly-awake Stiles. 

Boyd looked at everything, and asked, “What happened here?”

Stiles looked him in the eye, and said, “Werewolves. Werewolves happened here.” 

Boyd shook his head, and said, “You’re really weird,” and headed down to breakfast. The group headed down after Boyd, shaking their heads, and eventually Stiles followed them. 

Stiles sat with Allison and Boyd at breakfast, as usual, but watched the Hales out of the corner of his eye, and as soon as Derek stood up, Stiles got up and followed him. He chased after him and out of the hall, finally catching up with him. 

“Hey, Derek!” he said, making Derek stop and turn to face him. 

He was frowning, and said, “Uh- Stiles?”

Stiles grinned, “Hey, you know my name!”

“Professor Argent called it out in front of the entire school,” he said, and then, “What do you want?”

“I wanna say thanks for helping me with my trunk on the train-” 

“You’re welcome,” he said, and tried to turn, but Stiles grabbed his arm. Derek jerked back, like he’d been burned- or maybe like he was going to burn Stiles. Wow, he was pretty muscular. Stiles would have thought he would have been like, really thin or something, with all that frowning and brooding he did. Stiles wasn’t jealous or anything, no way, he was big for an eleven year old!

“No that’s not everything!” he said quickly, in case Derek might try to leave again. “I want us to be friends! Werewolves are cool, I read up on them last night and-”

Derek narrowed his eyes, “It’s not going to happen, Stiles,” and then ran off before Stiles could catch up, disappearing out of his sight.  

Stiles sighed, and stood there for another few minutes till Scott caught up with him, and they headed to Defense Against the Dark Arts together.

\---

“Why are we here, Stiles?” Scott asked

“Shh, he’ll hear you!” Stiles said, shushing his friend. 

Scott shook his head, “Wouldn’t want him to know you’re stalking him.” 

“If you ever want help stalking someone, don’t ask _me_ then.”

“Why do you wanna be friends with this guy so bad?” Scott asked, as he looked over his Transfiguration homework. Stiles was watching Derek from behind his propped open book, stealing glances from behind it. Derek had a few books open on the table around him, and apparently he was permanently grumpy, because he’d been glaring down at an essay for half an hour. 

“He just looks so alone,” Stiles said. 

“I think he looks murderous, but whatever you say, Stiles. Maybe he’ll be there for Quidditch practice,” Scott supplied, “Isn’t his sister the team captain?” 

“Oh yeah!” Stiles said, and then frowned at his homework. “How do I even pronounce that?” Scott looked over and shrugged. Stiles looked up, and Derek visibly sighed, flipping the page. Stiles pulled out his telescope from astronomy, and started watching him through it. 

Derek sighed again, and Scott said, not looking up, “He knows you’re watching him.”

“Fine, maybe I’ll go get a new best friend. Like Derek. I’m sure he knows lots of stuff a lame first year like you doesn’t.” Stiles stood up, and swept all the books he’d brought with him into his arms.

“Okay, you go do that, Stiles,” Scott said, laughing, and then called out- quietly, because the librarian wasn’t too far away- “I’ll be here when he turns you down.”

Stiles stuck his tongue out at him, and then turned around, and headed towards Derek’s table.

Derek looked like he wasn’t in a very good mood, but with the amount of homework he looked like he had already, Stiles wouldn’t have been either. He stood looking over the table for a moment, before going with a more direct approach. He dropped his books on the table, and said, “Hi, Derek.”

Derek sighed, not even looking up. He seemed content to ignore Stiles, and Stiles was okay with that. It meant he was making progress. At least Derek wasn’t demanding he leave. Stiles sat down, and then flipped open his History of Magic book, and started to read it, but after half an hour, all the battles started to blur into each other, and Stiles wasn’t sure if Harry Potter had fought in the Goblin Wars, or if the Order of the Phoenix was a mass hallucination by the Salem witches in America. And he was hardly past the introduction.

He groaned, and dropped face-first onto the book, saying, “Kill me now.” He heard Derek sigh, and shift positions- probably more away from Stiles. Stiles poked his head up, and asked, “What are you studying? Are you already writing an essay? Wow.”

Derek sighed, and through gritted teeth, said, “Charms, and yes. Now be quiet so I can finish it.” 

“Sorry!” Stiles said, and then tried on his own Charms reading. It wasn’t hardly any better than History. But soon he was fidgeting again, and tapping his fingers against the table. He glanced over at Derek again, and at _A Guide to Medieval Sorcery_ that was opened next to him. “I didn’t know that was required reading- wait, are you still taking History? I’m going to drop that class as I can. I didn’t know anyone was even taking it at the NEWT levels,” Stiles said, sitting up. 

“I like history,” he said. 

Stiles sat up excitedly, “Then can you help me with it? I keep getting all the goblin rebellions mixed up, and I’m supposed to be reading about the Emeric the Evil, and it would probably be interesting, but Professor Binns just drones on and on and my ADHD doesn’t help-” Stiles said, rambling on.  

“Wait, what’s AHDD?” Derek asked, interrupting him. 

“ADHD? Oh, right, you guys are all wizards and stuff, umm, it’s like, a muggle disorder thing, which I guess wizards can get too.”

“Is it serious?” Derek asked, looking concerned, suddenly. _See, he does have a heart,_ Stiles thought. 

Stiles shook his head frantically, “Nope, it just means I’m- just, um, me? Hyper. And stuff,” he finished lamely.

“Maybe some other time,” Derek said, “I actually have an essay to do.”

“Right,” Stiles nodded. 

\--- 

Stiles tried again the next week after classes on Wednesday, which was when Gryffindor had Quidditch practice, because there was no way one grumpy werewolf was going to deter him from friendship with said grumpy werewolf. He had it on good faith that Derek was on the pitch. (He’d asked the ghosts. They were actually really helpful when they liked you.) So he trudged out to the Quidditch pitch. He was really surprised when he only got lost once, going down the wrong staircase, one of the ones that went somewhere different in the afternoons. 

When Stiles got to the pitch, they had already started practicing, and he could tell it was Laura Hale speeding ahead of everyone on her Firebolt. It was still the fastest broomstick in the world, and still really expensive, so he guessed the Hales were probably really wealthy. She was probably speeding after a snitch, but he couldn’t tell, and the chasers were up in the air, as well as the Keeper, but Stiles couldn’t tell where the Beaters were. They might not have been there for practice, but as it was the first practice of the year after the trials where Mary Willows, a fourth year, replaced the old Chaser, he doubted it. Apparently Laura was pretty ruthless. He was pretty sure they were skirmishing, because it looked as though one of the Chasers had taken a post at the opposite team’s goal as acting Keeper. 

He started up the long climb up to the top of the Gryffindor tower, eventually making it up there after a long trek. He was out of breath, so Derek heard him coming as he panted. 

“Stiles?” Derek said, surprised, _Unfogging the Future_ looking untouched beside him. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to watch Quidditch practice. I haven’t really seen any real games before.” 

“Oh,” Derek said, turning back to the practice. 

“Do you come here to watch Quidditch because you like it, or because she’s your sister?” Stiles asked, stepping over the bench to sit down next to him. 

“A little of both,” Derek said, keeping his eyes on Laura. “My family is a really big fan of Quidditch- we usually support England National, but my dad also really likes Bulgaria, since he spent a couple of years there when he was younger.”

Stiles nodded, following Laura as she dove, and then the Bludgers reappeared, she diving under one, and the swerving past the second, as they headed towards the Chasers, one of which was attempting to get the quaffle past the real Keeper. Soon after the Bludgers came the Beaters, who were apparently higher than Stiles had been looking. “Why don’t you play?”

Derek shrugged, “I’ve just never really wanted to play professionally- or as professionally as Hogwarts gets anyway. We used to play a lot as kids, Laura, Cora, and I, as well as my Uncle Peter, and sometimes my cousins. It used to scare my muggle grandma,” Derek chuckled, “when we’d swoop so low it would knock the wig from her head.”

Stiles grinned, and said, “I never really played as a kid, since we lived in an apartment in London, and we never really had anywhere to play. I think I wanna try out for Beater next year, maybe.”

Derek glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, and hesitated before saying, “I think I can probably get Finstock to let me teach you sometime, in guise of tutoring.”

Stiles gaped at him, “Really? That would be awesome!” 

But then Laura, who’d perched high above the pitch, and was looking around, spotted a glint down below her. She watched it for a moment, with her sharp eyes, and then she took a nose dive, skidding to a halt, and then holding the Snitch high in the air for them all to see and praise her. She even took a little bow. Stiles and Derek jumped up and started cheering, and she bowed towards them before flying off to talk with her teammates. 

\---

Stiles was running late for lunch, but he’d forgotten his book for Charms, and the last time he did that, Professor Kettlewig had tutted at him and had taken five points from Gryffindor. They had to win the House Cup, he couldn’t be the reason they lost this year. Last year, Ravenclaw had won, and Lydia was wonderful and perfect and all, but he had house pride, and they were going to _win_. Even if it meant crawling around on his hands and knees because he accidentally dropped his wand between the wall and his bed. 

He was mumbling to himself about spiders and possible wads of gum as he groped beneath the bed, Stiles felt a piece of parchment under his hand. He didn’t think he’d lost any homework, and he was pretty sure they cleaned up every year, with cleaning harpies or something, so he didn’t know what it was. He pulled it out with a little difficulty, as it seemed to be stuck in the floorboards, but he managed to dislodge his wand while he was at it.

At first the paper seemed to be entirely blank, only a little strange because it had dozens of flaps and folds, but then as he opened a particular fold, there was something strange. There was a post-it note attached to it- which probably was the weirdest thing of all, because wizards don’t use post-it notes- with a few words written on it.

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good,” he read, and then suddenly, it was as though ink bled into the paper, creating various shapes and designs, until it read, ‘The Marauder’s Map.’ Stiles nearly dropped it. But then, he looked a little closer, and he realized it was actually a map of the school- or part of it, at least- as he started to unfold the paper. There were little footsteps passing across the page in various places, but mostly the Great Hall, where everyone was having lunch.

Under the feet was a name, and Stiles realized that not only was it a map, but it tracked everyone in the entire school. Even him. As he turned another flap, the note peeled off, and fell on top of his bed. Stiles picked it up, and then noticed there were more words on the back. He read them aloud with his wand and map in one hand, the note in the other, “Mischief managed.” 

And then the map went blank. Stiles was about to try out the first command, when he remembered what he was doing there in the first place. “Oh s-” he said, and stuffed the map under his pillow, scrambling out of Gryffindor tower, making it to the Great Hall in what he was sure was record time.

When Stiles arrived to his usual seat, Scott was already sitting there. “Hey, Scott, what are you- it doesn’t matter,” he said, shaking his head, sitting down next to him, “I’ve got to show you something later. Come by after class, you know the password." 

Boyd frowned, braced on his arms, “He’s not supposed to know the password.”

“Oh like Erica doesn’t know the password,” Stiles said, and turned back to Scott. 

\---

After Charms with Lydia- well, the Ravenclaws, but Lydia was really the only Ravenclaw he cared about, and he sat next to her anyway- Stiles practically ran back to the Gryffindor common room. Scott didn’t have a class so it would probably take him a few minutes to get up from the Hufflepuff common room- which was down near the kitchens. When Stiles got back to his room, he found he was the first to arrive, so it was safe to pull out the map. He’d been looking at it for a few moments when he head footsteps. He looked up, ready to stuff the map back underneath his pillow, when Scott stumbled in.

“Why are there so many stairs?” he asked, frowning, “I thought my mom’s house had a lot of stairs.”

Stiles shook his head, “Stop complaining and come check this out,” he said, and Scott stepped over, and looked down at the map. “This is the coolest map ever!” 

“What? Where’d you get it?” Scott asked, and turned it over. Just before Scott had arrived, Stiles had mumbled, _‘Mischief managed,’_ just in case it had been a teacher or something, and well, seeing the map change was cool.

“I found it! It was under my bed- finders keepers,” Stiles said, “I figure no one’s going to miss it, since the people who slept in here last year graduated, and what are they going to do with a map of Hogwarts, anyway?” 

Scott shrugged, “I guess it’s okay then. What does it do?”

Stiles held it in one hand, and then grinned, “Watch,” he pointed his wand at it, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good!” he said. Then, just like the first time, the ink started to bleed into the paper until the entire map was covered. Scott’s mouth was hanging open, and Stiles grinned again, opening the map further. He spread it out onto the bed, and he and Scott poured over it.

“There’s us!” Scott pointed, “Boyd is in the Gryffindor common room- and there’s Emily-”

“Yeah and there’s Headmaster Davis in his office, and there’s the Slytherin team practicing on the quidditch pitch, and-” Stiles said, and having looked over the map a little bit before, pointed, “I think this is a secret passageway!”

“This is so cool- I can’t wait to tell Allison about this!” Scott said, turning it over. 

Stiles threw up his hands, “No! You can’t tell anybody!”

“... Isaac?”

“ _Nobody_ , Scott.”

“Okay,” he said, “I promise.”

\--- 

“What are you going to do with it, Stiles?” Scott asked, as the two of them headed down to dinner, their heads bowed together as they walked. 

“I don’t know yet. But there were some secret passages I really wanna check out,” he said.

“Greenberg! Greenberg get back here this instant! You’ll lose _twenty_ house points! GREENBERG!” Coach Finstock yelled, running past Stiles and Scott, making them jerk their heads up, and Stiles looked around quickly to see if anyone had overheard them. 

“Do you think we should turn it in?” Scott asked, “What if someone bad finds it?”

Stiles shot him an incredulous look, “Who’s going to find it, the Dark Lord?”

Scott shook his head, “ _No_ , I just mean-” 

He rolled his eyes, “Come on, Scott, I’m hungry!”

Scott’s stomach growled, and he looked down, “Yeah me too.”

\--- 

At breakfast a few days later, when the mail owls came swooping in, Striggy dropped a letter into Stiles’ lap. It was the first letter he’d gotten from his dad since school started, and with a piece of toast stuck in his mouth, he ripped it open and read it. His dad asked how school was going, and if he’d made any friends, and that kind of thing that Stiles figured was basic your-child-went-off-to-wizarding-school-for-the-first-time kind of questions. He ended the letter with an, “I miss you, Stiles,” and Stiles made a note to remember to write him back later. 

Along with Stiles’ letter, Allison received something from her mother, dropped by Colly, her snowy owl, and Boyd’s owl Gubbins had also flown by. 

When Stiles looked up to fork a sausage off the tray in the middle of the table, Boyd was laughing, having gotten a letter himself, although not dropped off by Gubbins. Allison looked up from the letter her mother had written, and said, “What’re you laughing about?” 

Boyd chuckled, and said, “Erica’s mom took a bunch of pictures before she left, and she sent me one,” he showed them from across the table. It must have been taken directly after she and her mom had gone school shopping, because the bags were out of focus in the corner of the photo. She was wearing her new robes, and she had her wand in hand, and was smiling exhaustively like people do when they’ve been forced to smile for their parents for long periods of time. But she looked genuinely happy.

“Aww,” Allison said, and laughed. 

It was nearing the end of September, and Stiles knew that the night before had been a full moon, he’d been able to see it from his window. The Hales all looked exhausted, and had looked increasingly more so the week leading up to the transformation. That had been part of what he’d read, the transformation took a lot out of you, and you had to take the Wolfsbane potion every day leading up to every full moon. Apparently it tasted awful, and Stiles wondered where they got it. Apparently it was really hard to make, so even Laura probably couldn’t make it successfully. He wondered who they were getting it from- Harris, maybe? But he wasn’t that nice. He’d probably poison it for them. 

There was Madam Morrell, the head nurse. She actually _was_ a Slytherin, but apparently loves defying stereotypes, and inflicting (unnecessary) pain on deserving kids who did something stupid and got hurt. Stiles was fortunate enough not to have seen her himself, even though Isaac managed to fracture his collarbone while practicing flying. She might be nicer to students who couldn’t help it, but Stiles doubted it. 

Stiles hadn’t been paying attention to them earlier, but when he glanced over, the Hales had gotten little packages each. 

“Hey, where are you going?” Allison asked, “You’re not supposed to go to a different table, even to sit with friends!” she called out.

“I’m not, I’m just going down a little farther. I’ll see you in Defence later!” he waved, and Allison nodded, turning back to her orange juice. Stiles headed down to the end of the table, and stood over Derek’s shoulder. “Hi Derek!” he said, moving to sit beside him. “What’d you guys get?" 

Derek looked like he was ready to tell him to leave again, but Stiles was pretty sure it was all an act. He was warming up to him, Stiles was sure. He instead picked up a small bag of lemon cookies in clear plastic. They looked homemade. “My mom sent them,” he explained. 

From across the table, Laura looked delighted that Stiles had chosen to sit with Derek, “Oh my gods, Derek, I didn’t know you had _friends_!”

“I don’t,” he said gruffly, but Stiles was absolutely positive _that_ was an act. He was _so_ Derek’s friend. 

“Yes you do!” she squealed, and said, “I’m so writing to mom about this.”

Derek sighed, and looked to Cora, and said, “You too?” she nodded unapologetically. “Everyone in this school is out to get me.” 

“I’m not!” 

“You don’t count, Stiles.”

“Why not?” he protested. 

“Because I’m not even sure what you are yet. You’re weird,” Derek said. 

“I know,” he said, and then confiscated one of Derek’s cookies before he could protest, taking a big bite out of it. 

\---

October passed relatively quickly, with lessons getting more interesting- in Potions, which, admittedly, was not Stiles’ best class, they were learning how to brew a Forgetfulness Potion. Stiles and Scott were paired up again, and Scott was waving his wand over the cauldron- Scott’s, since Stiles’ new one hadn’t come in yet from the time Isaac had accidentally added ingredients to their cauldron instead of his and Allison’s, and it burned a hole through the bottom.  

Stiles was setting the timer for the appropriate amount of time for the potion to brew, and leafing through _Magical Drafts and Potions._ When Scott was finished, he looked up at the board, and groaned. “Twenty questions?”  

Stiles groaned too, “Not again.” 

Scott sighed, “Well we don’t have anything else to do for the next half hour, Stiles,” and flipped open his book. Forty minutes later, the timer went off, and the two of them were back to scrambling for the right ingredients to drop into the cauldron.  

“Two measures of standard ingredient-” Stiles read.

“Okay, got it,” Scott said, and then read the next ingredient, “add four mistletoe berries to the cauldron- wait,” he said, but Stiles had already dropped something in the cauldron.  

Stiles jerked his head up, “What?”

“You weren’t supposed to add those yet! We were supposed to crush them!” Scott said, and grabbed the wooden spoon, “Quick, maybe we can fish them out?”

Stiles took the spoon from him, and stuck it in the cauldron, moving it around, tried to feel for the berries, but after a few moments, he said, “I think they've already been dissolved.”

“I don’t think it’s supposed to be that color,” Scott said, the two of them peering over the top of the cauldron. 

“It should be fine right?” Stiles said. 

Scott looked nervously at the potion, “Right.”

“Um. Now we stir it, five times, clockwise- wait! Anti-clockwise!” Stiles said, after Scott started to stir clockwise. They looked at each other, and then started frantically stirring the other way. When finished, Stiles waved his wand, and they looked into the potion. 

Harris mostly been sitting at his desk the entire class, only walking around once to sigh down at people’s cauldrons, but apparently sometime during Stiles and Scott’s mishap, had stood up, and stepped over to their seats, and stood over them.

Harris closed his eyes, and took in a breath, and sighed, opening them again, and said, “Mr. Stilinski, I ask you to brew a simple Forgetfulness Potion, and instead, you create enough sludge for me to drown myself in when I decide I have had enough with you and Mr. McCall, and even you, Mr. Lahey.” 

Allison, who was Isaac’s partner and was sitting next to them, was hiding behind her hand, trying not to laugh.   

\---

It was the week before Halloween, and everyone had gone to study hall after class, before dinner, to catch up on homework. After two hours, Danny stood up, and said, “I’ve finished with everything, I’ll see you guys at dinner.”

“What? How are you finished already? Professor Dippet gave us that essay on dittany, it’s supposed to be twelve inches of parchment, and I haven’t even started it yet!” Stiles said, groaning. 

“Oh, I did that two days ago,” Danny said, stacking his books. “And we don’t have any Astronomy homework,” he said, and then looked around, “She’s not usually this lenient. It’s kinda weird.”

Allison looked up from her History of Magic homework, and said, “Oh- my dad said he wasn’t going to be around the night before Halloween because it was Professor Vanity’s birthday- Professor Grinspun’s probably planning her party. Apparently all the teachers are going." 

“Well I don’t care why we’re not having homework, as long as we don’t have it,” Scott said, and Erica nodded.

“The last thing I need is another star chart to fill in,” she said, and looked down at her books, making a face, “I only finished the last one because I stole Jackson’s.” 

Jackson looked up from the Slytherin table, and looked around like he had heard her, even though he was a table away. The group was all sitting at the Gryffindor table, since they usually sat down with whoever was already in study hall, and it happened to be Allison and Lydia this time. They invited Jackson to join them, but he’d made a face at the table before moving to sit with his Slytherin friends- he only ever sat with them at the Ravenclaw table, since they weren’t quite so bitter enemies. 

\---

Soon enough, it was two days before the full moon again, and Stiles was following Derek around the castle, pestering him to come with him and see the wolf, “Come on, Derek, pleaaaaase? I know you won’t hurt me!”

“No, Stiles, and that’s final,” Derek said, and he looked like he might burst a blood vessel. He hadn’t hit Stiles yet, or cursed him, but Stiles was pretty sure he might start soon. 

“C’mon! Please? I won’t bother you, I promise!”

Derek said, through gritted teeth, “No." 

“At least tell me why!” Stiles whined.

Something in Stiles’ tone of voice made Derek whirl around and snap, “Because I can’t control it!” 

Stiles stepped back, and Derek was in his face, and he looked almost like a wolf. For all it was terrifying, it was also kinda cool. Stiles had a terrible survival instinct. He was probably going to be killed someday. Or eaten. Maybe Derek would finally get fed up with him and kill him. Cora might help. They’d probably dine on his bones. He should really stop thinking. 

“Um, okay,” Stiles said.

Derek stepped back, and sighed, “ _Promise_ me you won’t try to follow me.”

“Okay!” Stiles said.

“Promise me, Stiles,” Derek said, looking him in the eye. 

“I promise I won’t try to follow you when you wolf out,” Stiles sighed reluctantly.

\---

Stiles was also really bad at keeping promises that involve not doing something he really wanted to do. See his dad for more information on that subject. He had his own file at the station, and the officers knew him by name. And not because his mom would take him down there to visit. He had nearly gone to go get Scott to join him in stalking Derek, but then he remembered that he didn’t actually know the full Hufflepuff password, and didn’t really want to get vinegar dumped on him. Once was enough. 

So Stiles had sat up that friday night, with the map tucked under his pillow, pulling it out to check Derek’s footsteps every few minutes. He hadn’t moved from his room yet, and Stiles didn’t think Cora or Laura had yet either, but around eleven- when everyone else was in bed- the three started down the stairs to the commons room, where Madame Morrel, the nurse, had entered the common room. They stopped there together for a moment, but then followed her out and down the hallway. Stiles lept out of bed- still in his uniform, of course, he was a master at these things- and hurried downstairs. 

They had a good head start, but Stiles had the map, so soon enough he was catching up with the four. Heading down a dark hall, with only wand light lighting the way, Stiles was looking down at the map and spotted the name Greenberg near the great hall. He narrowed his eyes, and mumbled in almost astonishment, “He does exist,” and then suddenly he heard giggling, and Professors Vanity and Grinspun, who were leaning on each other and giggling, came around the corner and narrowly missed Stiles, who ducked out of the way just in time. 

After they passed, Stiles picked up his pace and followed the Hales out to- wherever the hell they were going. He trekked through the rest of the school, and then outside- thankfully the door wasn’t locked, they hadn’t learned how to unlock stuff yet. Madame Morrel, along with the Hales, were standing near the Whomping Willow. Stiles ran after them as quickly as he could and crouched behind a few bushes near the tree, when Madame Morrel said a spell and the tree froze. The three Hales headed into the roots, and the tree unfroze as she headed back towards the school. Stiles didn’t know any spell that would do that kind of thing, so he just watched the tree for a few moments till he had an opportunity to run past, and took it. He dove into the roots just in time, and saw that there was a narrow passageway, and followed it up into the- house?

It appeared that the passageway led into the shrieking shack- Stiles was guessing, anyway. He’d never been _inside_ before, but if he had to guess what the inside looked like, it was this. The walls were falling apart, and so were the floors, and maybe this hadn’t been a good idea, because there were two other wolves in the house at the same time.

Stiles glanced into the doorways of the three downstairs rooms- with the last being locked, but there was a large hole in the center of the door, as if someone had tried to take an axe to it. Inside the room, as far as Stiles could see, from peering through the hole, there were two wolves in there, sleeping in a literal ‘dog pile.’ Stiles couldn’t be sure, but they seemed a little bit smaller, one certainly more so than the other, and so he was pretty sure they were female. Laura and Cora, most likely. Derek wasn’t exactly the type to cuddle, he guessed. They were sleeping, light pouring in from the cracks between the window boards. 

He headed upstairs, where Derek probably was, and started to look around- he’d leave right after he saw Derek, he promised. The first room was empty, but the next one’s door was shut, so Stiles turned the knob slowly. It groaned loudly, and he almost wanted to stop and go back, but the door was already open and- it was Derek, he was sure of it. The werewolf looked like a normal shaggy black wolf- except with more human eyes.

“Oh shit,” Stiles said. He could see the wolf’s eyes. _The wolf was awake_. 

The wolf seemed to see him, baring his teeth at Stiles, as it stood up, and advanced towards him. Stiles scrambled backwards, and tripped. He fell, terrified, as the wolf approached. But it didn’t attack him, it just barred it’s teeth, and Stiles pulled himself up, and ran out of the house.

\---

The next morning, Stiles groaned as he pulled himself out of bed, not even trying to pretend the previous night had been a really terrible dream. Yeah, he was never ever gonna beg Derek to see the wolf ever again. Actually, it was probably better if Derek didn’t even remember the previous night. He pulled himself out of bed, and made it downstairs to eat breakfast with Allison and Boyd.  

The mail came, as usual, but Stiles didn’t get anything- Allison got another letter, this time from her grandfather. As Allison read her letter, Stiles looked down towards the end of the table- the Hales’ usual seats were empty, and Stiles hoped nothing bad had happened, but a few minutes later, the three of them came tumbling into the hall, looking exhausted, huge bags under their eyes, but fresh clothing and properly showered. Stiles would shower too, if he spend the night as an overgrown dog.  

The siblings were eating heartily, stuffing sausage and eggs into their mouths, so he figured he shouldn’t disturb them, and would approach them afterwards. Stiles poured a few fried tomatoes onto his own plate, and watched Boyd dip toast in his porridge. Stiles made a face at that, “That _can’t_ be good.”

Boyd looked up from his food, “You clearly have never tried this stuff,” and went back to dipping.

A while later, people started leaving breakfast to head to either after school activities- as it was a Saturday- or to Hogsmeade, since it was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. Before he knew it, Stiles looked up, and saw Derek wasn’t sitting at the table anymore- neither was Laura. 

Stiles stood up, and ran out of the hall, where he spotted his friend, "Derek, Derek!" he called.

Derek and Laura stopped ahead of him, the latter giving them a glance before saying, “I’m going to head to the pitch. I’ll see you there?”

Derek nodded as Laura left, and then looked at Stiles, frowning, "Why are you still here?"

"... Because we're friends? I thought that was pretty obvious at this point?" Stiles said. 

"Don't I freak you out? I remember- you were there! I attacked you!" Derek said, almost at a yell. 

Stiles shrugged, and said, "Yeah, of course it freaks me out a little, but that's not just who you are, ya know? You're not a monster, you're _Derek_."  

Derek just looked at him, and said, "You're weird."  

"I know. I come to a school full of other weird kids like me, and I'm _still_ weird. Now c'mon, stop being a sourwolf, I wanna watch quidditch practice."  

Derek just looked at him for another moment before following Stiles out to the Quidditch pitch, books tucked under one arm. They climbed up to the top of Gryffindor’s tower just in time to see Laura getting on her broom, where she exhaustively beat the shit out of the other, fictional team.  

After practice, which was held in the morning so that the older members would have time to go to Hogsmeade, Stiles asked, as they were heading down the stairs, "Are you going to hogsmeade this weekend?"  

Derek shook his head, shrugging, "Nothing for me to do there," and then, "I got permission from Finstock to teach you how to play Quidditch," Derek said. "Lunch isn't for another couple of hours, want to go now?"

"Yes!" 

\---

They still had classes on Halloween, and Stiles would have found it to really hard to concentrate, since the feast was supposed to be spectacular, except that they were learning how to make things _fly_ in Charms. Okay, it was levitation, Lydia corrected him- and it was actually a lot harder than Stiles thought. He’d been running late, so Allison had already claimed the seat next to Lydia, and Boyd and Cora were sitting next to each other, so he had to sit next to Danny. 

After the demonstration, everyone started on it- Danny and Lydia got it after a moment, and Stiles failed spectacularly. 

“It’s-” Danny sighed, you have to pronounce it Levi _o_ sa,” he said, “and make sure you _swish_ your wand- you’re mostly doing a kind of stab thing.”  

“Like this?” Stiles tried again, mumbling to himself, “swish and flick,” and then louder, “Wingardium Leviosa!” and _swished and flicked_. It lifted off the desk slowly, and Stiles said, “Yes!”

“You’re welcome,” Danny said, and went back to lazily floating the feather across the classroom.  

Boyd nearly poked it, until Cora caught his hand lighting fast, and said, "Don't do that, it might light on fire!" 

\---

That night, the feast _was_ spectacular- except for the part where Peeves swooped in and dropped rotten eggs on people’s heads, Stiles only narrowly missing being egged because Allison screamed, “Duck!” as Peeves pelted the egg in his direction, cackling. Mostly everyone who was egged laughed it off, except for one girl who broke into tears at the Hufflepuff table, until one of the seventh year boys vanished it and made her laugh. 

They’d woken up to pumpkin tarts, and pumpkin muffins, and all sorts of other pumpkin-flavored dishes, and even a few kinds of sweets- but it wasn’t anything like the feast- which Stiles thought was way better than the start-of-term banquet. There were hundreds of pumpkins, some carved and full of candles that flickered as the live bats swooped in huge clouds, and the ghosts were having a grand time popping out of the jack-o-lanterns, peering in windows, and gliding through the room. 

The whole room seemed to glow orange, and Stiles was _loving_ it. “This is so cool!” 

“It’s too bad the full moon didn’t match up with Halloween this year!” Stiles said, leaning over to the Hales as he passed. Laura smiled at him, but Derek just scowled. 

Scott didn’t seem to notice, he was too busy gaping up at the bats, “Are those real?” he said, but before anyone had a chance to answer, several swooped down lowly, and into Scott’s hair. He yelped, and tried to swat it out of his hair, but it freed itself and fled. The two parted, Scott heading to Hufflepuff, as Stiles as down at his usual spot next to Allison. 

The table was laden with foods like baked potatoes and candied ham, but what Stiles was mostly interested in were the pumpkins overflowing with candy, black cauldrons of lollipops, and the other treats. As they ate the other students were discussing what the entertainment at the end of the night would be- some people talked about skeleton bands, or talking pumpkins, or maybe even banshees.  

When the time came around, Headmaster Davis stood up and clapped once, and then the ghosts popped out of the walls and did formation gliding. It was spectacular- even the Bloody Baron participated, and everyone hooted and clapped loudly as the ghosts took their bows. 

\---

The next weekend, the first in November, marked the start of the Quidditch tournaments. The first Quidditch match was between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and loyalties were divided. Erica and Boyd were shouting from opposite booths, Lydia joined the Gryffindors, to sit with Allison, even though Jackson wanted her to sit with him, as he loudly shouted at the teams, even though she, nor Allison, cared about the game much at all. Scott joined the Gryffindors to sit with Stiles, and Isaac tagged along- they’d much rather have Gryffindor win, and it may have had to do with the fact they didn’t like Jackson, who’d been bragging about their team all month. 

During the game- which started off with a Gryffindor goal as Laura faked out the other Seeker and tricked him into pushing one of his own Chasers out of the way- Stiles spotted several teachers rooting for different teams- Grinspun had apparently joined the Slytherin team, a green scarf around her neck, yelling out at them. Harris had looked impassive at first, but then getting more excited as the game went on, cheering for Slytherin as they scored their third goal to Gryffindor’s sixth. Professor Blake joined the Gryffindors, yelling loudly in a way he didn’t think she was capable of. Evan Deaton was there, shouting fouls at the Slytherins. 

Chris Argent yelled out, half his face painted red, “Come on, Laura, you can catch it!” as she really spotted the snitch this time and dove for it, ramming into the other Seeker and nearly knocking him off his broom as she reached out for it.

Meanwhile, Matt was running up and down the Slytherin booth, taking pictures as Gryffindor scored another goal- ninety points to forty. It looked like the Slytherins weren’t doing so well this time, but they had high spirits. They could still win if their Seeker caught the Snitch. The Slytherins erupted as they managed to knock a Gryffindor Chaser off her broom with a Bludger, taking her out of the game. 

A few Gryffindors were yelling at the ref- Coach Finstock- saying it was a foul, but he just shrugged, and yelled, “It’s all fair!” 

Then- the crowd erupted into wild cheers as Laura zoomed around the pitch, showing off her captured Snitch. Gryffindor won! Stiles turned to Derek, who’d moved over to stand next to Stiles sometime during the game, and they screamed and cheered till their voices were hoarse. Afterwards, the Gryffindors piled into the common room and carried Laura around on their shoulders, temporarily forgetting- or more likely, not caring- about her wolfy-ness in the face of their massive victory, with their rivals Slytherin suffering a humiliating defeat. 

Laura, on their shoulders, proclaimed she wanted to go out with a bang, shooting them all a grin. The win put Gryffindor in head for the house cup. 

\---

The air was getting colder, and some mornings even started out with frost on the windows and bushes outside, the sky getting more grey. Classes were progressing as normal, but in the third week of November, they didn’t have homework for a class again, although this time was was for Transfiguration. As they were leaving class, Professor Vanity said, “No homework tonight! And try _not_ to leave any tails on your matchboxes if you so choose to practice outside of class, thank you!”

“No homework?” Stiles mumbled, “I feel like I should be worried.”

“It’s probably someone else’s birthday, Grinspun’s, maybe,” Erica said and shrugged.

\---

But they were glad to be free of the homework, because the second game of the year- the match between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw- took place that weekend. 

Allison sat with Lydia, who still didn’t care, in the Ravenclaw box. Stiles saw that Derek was over there too, for some unexplained reason. Jackson was too, but he was still pouting about how Lydia didn’t sit with him, and sitting next to a cheering Danny. 

Isaac, who didn’t know much about Quidditch, cheered anyway, sitting with Scott and Stiles in the Hufflepuff booth. Erica and Boyd were sitting together at the neutral location of Gryffindor. The teachers were still going all out- Vanity was wearing a Ravenclaw scarf this time, and her face was painted blue, Kettlewig was getting unusually flustered, her face a bright red as she shouted at them, Deaton joining her in cheerful shouting, Blake and Harris teamed up in blue robes and waving flags frantically. 

Ravenclaw won with a total of 240 points, Hufflepuff, who had been winning prior to the catch of the Snitch, with 110, Ravenclaw tying with Gryffindor for first, Hufflepuff with Slytherin for last. 

\---

By mid-December, snow had started to fall. Stiles was woken up by his roommate James as he ran to the window and pressed his face to the glass. Snow was falling! Stiles threw off the covers- which was admittedly not that great of an idea- and ran to one of the windows. The sight was breathtaking. The castle had gotten several inches of snow overnight, and it was still gently falling. Everyone piled downstairs, all bundled up in the drafty hallways.

Classes were torture, since they didn’t usually have fireplaces- some teachers, like Kettlewig, were nice enough to preform heating charms in their classrooms, but some, like Harris, thought they should be grateful they even had a roof over their heads, and Stiles’ hand was shaking as he poured Horklump juice into the cauldron, and next to him, Scott’s teeth were chattering as he stuck his arm under his armpits. For Astronomy, everyone wore their cloak, a hat or two, and a scarf, at the least. Professor Grinspun, though, seemed to be flourishing in the snow, only wearing a cloak and scarf, her cheeks pink as they all suffered.

A few days later, Professor Argent came around collecting names of anyone who wanted to stay over the break. Stiles was going home to see his dad, but a few others approached him, and it got Stiles thinking. Everyone had started to talk of going home for the break, and Stiles realized he had started to feel that Hogwarts _was_ home- he had a best friend- Scott, and a bunch of other friends, even if some of them didn't quite admit it yet- like Lydia. Stiles was sure she would come around. But he _did_ miss his dad, and there weren’t going to be any classes at home, so he wasn’t going to mind going home at all. 

The next morning, Allison got a letter from her aunt, and her face lit up as she tore it open. She said, her eyes quickly passing over the page, “My aunt Kate is coming for Christmas!”

Stiles looked up from the sausage he was currently stabbing, “So you heading home for Christmas?”

She nodded, “I can’t wait to see her, and my mom!”

“Me too- just the heading home part, I’m gonna see my dad, and maybe hang out with Scott,” he said. “What about you, Boyd?”

He said, shaking his head, “Erica and I are staying. It’s really far for our parents to drive for just a two week holiday.”

Stiles nodded, “I get that.”

\---

He asked Lydia about her holiday plans in Charms later that day, and she said, as the class performed the Softening Spell, _Spongify_ , on one of their textbooks. “I’m going home to Ireland,” she said, and then poked her textbook with her wand. Stiles was proud to say he’d actually done better than Lydia at this one particular spell. 

Danny, softening his desk, provided, “I’m going home too. Me and Jackson are going to spend the holiday watching the Falcons practice, and we’ll probably go see them at one of their tournaments.”

\---

Two days before break, Stiles said excitedly, “Have you ever seen this much snow?” kicking it with his boot, then dodging a snowball ment for a fight a few meters away, as the two of them trudged across the snow-covered grounds, heading to the quidditch pitch to watch one of the last practices before the holiday. 

“I’m from Oxford, we get about eight days of snow,” Derek said, “It’s nothing like this, though. That’s why I stayed over Christmas my first year- my mom was heartbroken, but I couldn’t resist, it was just so-”

“Beautiful, right?” Stiles said, “I’m from London, we get about the same. It never really sticks, though.”

Derek nodded, “The Christmas Feast- which is usually about twelve students, two teachers, and the headmaster- is actually really fun, too. There are Wizard Crackers- if you’ve never tried them, you really should. It’s a lot funnier when Headmaster Davis or one of the teachers isn’t expecting it to go off. The year I stayed, Professor Kettlewig’s husband was away on business, so she stayed, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a teacher jump so high in my life. You should stay one year if your parents don’t mind.”

“My dad probably wouldn’t if I kept begging him,” Stiles laughed.

“What about your mom?”

“She, uh, passed away last spring.”

They were quiet for a moment, only hearing the sound of snow crunching under their feet, and their heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry, Stiles,” Derek said.

“It’s okay,” Stiles said. “So are you going home this year, too?”

Derek nodded, “Laura and Cora too. Although I think Laura’s going to spend the latter half with her boyfriend in Ireland. Cora’s homesick.”

Stiles laughed, “Never would have guessed. I’m going home to my dad, too. I really missed him.”

As they neared the Quidditch Pitch, Derek said, “Hey, look,” and pointed towards the forest. Several teachers, including Deaton, the groundskeeper, were pulling pine trees up towards the school, “Looks like they’ve started decorating the great hall for Christmas. We should go see it after practice- I think they should be done by then.”

\---

The day the Christmas Holiday started, everyone piled onto the train, Scott, Stiles, Allison, Lydia, Danny, and Jackson all piled into one compartment with their luggage and animals. It wasn’t as crowded as last time, but it was still quite a few people to fit into one compartment. Isaac had stayed over break too, but nobody blamed him- the school looked really amazing at the moment. 

“I can’t wait to get back home to my mom’s!” Allison said, around two in the afternoon, when everyone was finished eating and staring out the window at the snow-covered hills. “We have a house in Yorkshire- we just moved there a year and a half ago, but I miss it.”

Scott said, “I didn’t know your parents were divorced.”

She shook her head, and said, “Oh they aren’t. My mom says that a woman shouldn’t ever sacrifice her wants or independence for any man, and this arrangement suits them just fine. She can come visit anytime she wants, and my dad goes back to see her at the Christmas Holidays and summer, and weekends sometimes.”

“Oh!” Scott said. “It’s just me and my mom.”

\---

Once they reached the platform, kids poured out of the train, and Stiles was one of the first ones off, and he ran into his dad’s hug, “Dad!” he yelled.

“Hey, Stiles,” he said, and looked him over, “I think you’ve grown. It’s a good thing we got those self-repairing robes, huh?”

“Have I really? Awesome!” Stiles said, as his dad started leading them off the platform. Stiles turned, and yelled back, “Bye, Scott! I’ll write you later!”

\---

The rest of the Christmas holiday, Stiles spent with his dad for the most part, catching up. He did spend a couple of afternoons at the department, telling the other detectives highly-edited tales of school, and all about his new friends. He kinda left out the part where one of his new friends was a werewolf, because he figured his dad probably wouldn’t like it any more than the time he accidentally appeared in the fireplace of a murder investigation. That one had been difficult to explain. 

On Christmas, he woke up to several presents from Father Christmas, because, his dad explained, that since magic was real, Father Christmas was too. Stiles was just happy to get stuff. He got a few muggle things- like cool muggle books, a sweater, a few new games for his playstation, and apparently his dad made a stop in Diagon Alley, because there were magical things in there too, like color-changing ink, a remembrall- to remember to write his father- and several other things. In addition to those, he’d apparently gotten things from his friends too- except for Scott, who he’d be seeing in a few days, so they’d agreed to exchange presents then.

He got his dad a book on magical law enforcement, Lydia a never-wilting flower crown, Scott a box of chocolates (but not chocolate frogs), Jackson a pair of muggle socks, and various other trinkets for his friends. He’d gotten Derek a trick crystal ball, one that only told highly improbable and ridiculous fortunes, because he remembered that he really liked all that Divination stuff, but couldn’t take it because they didn’t have a qualified teacher, and the previous headmaster thought it was a ridiculous subject. 

One of the last gifts under the tree was from Derek, and Stiles smirked as he opened it because he _did_ care! It was _Quidditch Through the Ages_ which Stiles had been meaning to buy, but never got around to it. There was a note attached, that said, “Laura made me get you a present. She said you’d probably get me one but I thought that was stupid, but here. You said you wanted to read this at practice once.”

A few days later, Scott’s mom drove him up to Stiles’, and the two of them hung out for a few hours while their parents good-naturedly groused over having magical children. They exchanged gifts, and said goodbye, promising to call each other because they had these magical devices called telephones in the muggle world.

\---

When the holiday was over, everyone met back up at the train station, Stiles lugging his things and a few Christmas presents he’d received. Jackson was dressed impeccably, but it only made him look out of place with people like Scott wrapped in house scarves and long robes. When Lydia boarded, she was carrying a whole mound of things with her, at least twice what she left with, Allison following shortly behind. 

The train ride back was half spent sleeping, everyone laying on top of each other, exhausted from their activities during the break, and the other half telling the tales. Apparently Jackson and Danny got to not only _see_ the Falmouth Falcons, but they even had a chance to practice with them! Danny, apparently, had been really good, as the Falcons’ Keeper told him- he was even thinking about trying out next year. Jackson was a little quieter on the subject, Stiles even might have said he was pouting, because he hadn’t received any outstanding praise from any member of the team. 

Lydia had apparently done quite a bit of shopping, and Allison had gone on a tour of the countryside with her parents and aunt the last half of the holiday, and Stiles and Scott swapped chocolate frog cards with Danny- Stiles had four Circe cards, and Danny had two Edgar Strougler cards, and Scott just really wanted to get rid of Herpo the Foul. 

They didn’t get any sweets on the train, since most of them still had pockets loaded with candy from Christmas, and by the time they arrived back at the school for dinner, they were so exhausted they fell right into bed.

\---

The term started up again early into January, when snow still caked the ground, and the hallways remained icy. With the start of term came the start of Quidditch practice again- Stiles and Derek trudged up the tower, huffing in the cold morning air, their cheeks flushed pink. They’d taken to doing homework up there, so they were carrying several school books. By the time they reached the top of the tower, Stiles was almost warm enough to unwrap his scarf and take off his hat and gloves, but he figured he’d probably be too chilly later.

After practice, they had the pitch to themselves for two hours, after which time, the Hufflepuffs had the fields. It was only the fifth or sixth time they’d ever practiced together, but Stiles was pretty sure he was a decent grasp of how to play the game- but that didn’t mean he was _good_ at it. He had a lot of bruises. A lot of them. Stiles was- or rather, was _trying_ to be- a Beater, so Derek yelled a lot about things, like not to be afraid of the ball- “I’m not! I’m just trying to avoid being hit in the face! Ow!” Stiles yelled as the Bludger rammed into his chest.

And then later- “Make sure you’re actually trying to knock me off my broom! Come on, Stiles, ram right into me!” 

“That’s really hard to do when you’re two hundred pounds of muscle, and I’m like four eleven! Tops!” 

“Stiles,” Derek growled. “Come at me. Now.” 

“Fine!” he said, and then as the Bludger- they were only practicing with one- came back around. Stiles managed to hit it towards Derek, who dodged it easily on his own broom, and then lunged for Derek. Derek quickly sped off, the Quaffle under one arm, and headed for the goal. Stiles was defense, so his job was to keep Derek away from the goal, which meant knocking him off course, and making it look like an accident. Taking in a deep breath, Stiles went after him, and rammed into his side, but it barely jolted him. 

“Harder!” Derek yelled, “More aggressive! Come on, Stiles, you’ve faced down a werewolf but you can’t ram into a _human_?” Stiles let off for a moment, but then looped back around, and rammed into his side, and knocking the Quaffle out of his arms. The ball started to fall slowly, and Derek dived for it. “Good job,” he said, “but you can’t touch the Quaffle.” As he glanced up at the Bludger hurdling towards them, Derek said, “Why don’t we work on the Dopplebeater Defense?”

\---

It seemed that the next time Stiles looked up it was already the middle of February. They were learning how to treat werewolf bites in Defence Against the Dark Arts- which, _ironic_ \- and they were moving on to the moons of Jupiter in Astronomy when suddenly it was Valentines Day. The halls were buzzing with whispers about who was going to ask whom out, pink paper airplanes that unfolded into Valentines swooped by, and Stiles was pretty sure he saw love potions being passed hands even before breakfast. When he entered the Great Hall he saw it was just as decorated as every other Holiday- pink heart chains were draped across the walls, the room seemed to glow a rosy shade, and actual rose petals dropped from the ceiling where they appeared, falling in a slow shower to cover the tables. 

By the time Stiles arrived, most everyone was already there. Nearly everyone had at least one Valentine card, or box of chocolates, or a little pile of sweets from friends. Stiles was carrying a small-ish box of chocolates that he’d bugged Derek to get until he’d agreed to take some time out of his last Hogsmeade trip to go by Honeydukes and get a box of chocolates for him. They were for Lydia, of course. When he passed the Hales, he waved, and Laura waved back, as her boyfriend kissed her cheek and she leaned into it. Cora had a card of her own, but it looked like more of a card from a friend, and Derek had only one- but his was in the shape of a heart. He’d pushed it to the side of his plate. 

A few seats away, Paige- that one girl who Rupert had said liked Derek- was shooting glances in his direction. She was pretty, Stiles didn’t know why he didn’t just go out with her. He was just fine being Stiles’ friend, dating her couldn’t be _that_ different. 

At his usual seat, Allison already had a few cards- from what he was able to see, one from Lydia and another from Scott. Across from them, Boyd had one too- probably from Erica. He waved to them, and took a breath, before hurrying over to the Ravenclaw table to give Lydia her Valentine. He stopped a few feet away. She had a small mountain of gifts- cards, more than one box of chocolate, and what appeared to be enchanted flowers. She was looking at the pile smugly, and Danny was sitting next to her shaking his head. 

Stiles approached tentatively and said, “Uh, Lydia.” 

She didn’t even look up when she said, “Put it on the pile.”

He was about to open his mouth again when Danny shook his head and said, “Better men have tried.”

Stiles shot him a glare but put the chocolates on the pile- the very top, of course- and said, “Happy Valentines’ Day, Lydia.”

She hummed non-committedly, and he trudged back to his table, where he arrived just in time to see the owls swoop in with the mail. Several more valentines were dropped in, along with a couple packages and normal mail. With the last sweep of owls, Stiles heard a sharp gasp from the Ravenclaw table. Everyone turned to them as that part of room quieted, and someone said, “Blimey, he’s got a Howler!”

Boyd frowned, and said, “A Howler?”

After a moment, the Howler started to smoke in the corners, and the recipient looked quite pale. He reached over and opened it. It screamed, and then a girl’s voice yelled out, a hundred times louder than usual, making the plates and glasses shake. “I WANT TO TOUCH YOUR SWEET BUTT,” the girl’s voice screamed, and then it dropped, and caught flame, turning to ash. For a moment, everyone looked at it in a stunned silence, before the group of friends dissolved into rowdy laughter, patting their pale friend on the back, a pretty girl looking smug a couple feet away.

\---

Two days later it was the third Quidditch match of the year. The match- between Ravenclaw and Slytherin- had loyalties divided again, with the group of friends spanning across the houses. Since no one really liked Slytherin, if just on principle, almost everyone was supporting Ravenclaw with the exception of the actual Slytherins and Boyd, who’d joined Erica, and Isaac, who’d decided he had more friends than just Scott.

Stiles, on the other had, was all into it, because they couldn’t let the _Slytherins_ win. It didn’t have everything to do with Lydia, after all. But on the other hand- if Ravenclaw won, they would be in first for the Quidditch cup.

The game started off well for the Slytherins, but only lasted about ten minutes in their favor. One of the Ravenclaw Chasers managed three goals in a row before being called out for fouls, but they were allowed to keep the points, and then the Beaters managed Bludger control and knocked out one of the Slytherin Chasers, Hannah . Playing with one less Chaser, the team only dragged down further, until at 160-40, the Ravenclaws caught the snitch. It wasn’t a very exciting game, honestly. The Ravenclaws cheered anyway, and they were placed first in the ranking for the Quidditch Cup, Gryffindor only slightly behind them.

\---

In the weeks that followed, Stiles was busier than he’d ever been. Exams were only in a few weeks, and all of Easter Holiday was spent studying. A few people Stiles knew went home, like James Swern, one of his roommates, and Emily West, one of Scott’s friends, but Stiles spent most of his time in the library trying to complete all the extra work piled on him by his teachers. It seemed Lydia and Danny were absolutely not to be disturbed, because when Stiles tried to ask her about the practical uses of the fire charm they’d learned in Herbology, she’d snapped at him and stuck her nose back in the book. Danny just ignored him. 

Scott and Isaac had been color-coding all their notes at Allison’s suggestion, and they’d borrowed her notes, but were taking a break from studying at the moment, so Stiles was left alone. He’d found Derek in the library- which was a miracle, because there was no way he was going to pass history without him- and they’d been doing work together for the past few hours.

“Uric the Oddball, Dittany, Alohomora,” Stiles muttered into the book, “when am I ever going to use any of this?”

“You won’t,” Derek said, flipping a page.

“Then why do I have to learn it?” Stiles said, propping his head up on his hand, and staring down at the text books.

“Because you have to pass your exams.”

Stiles stared wistfully out the window, “Can’t we go outside and study out there?” The snow had cleared up ages ago, and it was finally starting to look decent outside, the sky clear and at a reasonable temperature. 

“No,” Derek said, and flipped another page before writing something down.

“Dereeeeee-”

“Later.”

\---

The next weekend was the fourth Quidditch match, and a nice reprieve from studying, even though he knew Laura had the team practicing three times a week in addition to their studying and homework. However, the practice paid off, because the Gryffindors won the match against Hufflepuff, putting them once again tied with Ravenclaw for first. It was a close match, and Hufflepuff nearly won, only because Laura was knocked off her broom by one of her own Beaters. He was firmly given a talking to. He came out looking like he was going to pee his pants, and she stormed off. 

\---

The next few weeks dragged by slowly, and it was May before there was any more excitement- the final two quidditch matches. The first was between Hufflepuff and Slytherin, leading to a Slytherin victory, and Stiles scowled at them for nearly a week, even though there was no way they were going to win the Quidditch Cup- it was between Ravenclaw- the previous winners- and Gryffindor. Laura had been giving the entire team speeches for weeks, which were supposed to be motivational, and most of them were, but sometimes she just got threatening. She was going to win the Quidditch Cup this year, she _had_ to, it was her last year. Stiles and Derek were privy to them all, of course, and Derek, being a little brother, would occasionally cheer at the wrong moments just to piss her off.

It was funny until Derek found eyes of newt in his bed one night, and then slipped down the stairs trying to get her back as boys weren’t allowed in the female dorms. She smirked at him for the next two practices, and told him he was lucky she didn’t think it was a good idea to turn his hair blue again. He refused to tell Stiles the story. 

The final Quidditch match was the decider, between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Just like the first game- and really every game since, just less intensely- people painted their faces and Matt ran around snapping pictures before the game even began. Lydia had been persuaded of the merits of the game somewhat, so she had joined up with Allison to charm a few posters to flash different colors to support their teams. 

Even the teachers who didn’t normally come out to games showed up- like the Arithmancy teacher, Sachrima Kapur, who was draped in her own house colors, red and gold- along with all the regulars like Allison’s dad, Professors Vanity and Grinspun, both dressed to support Ravenclaw, along with Kettlewig and Deaton who were supporting Gryffindor. Headmaster Davis even showed up- he didn’t appear to have taken sides, cheering equally for both teams. 

As soon as Coach Finstock blew the whistle, the Ravenclaws took off towards the Gryffindor goal, Chasers with the Quaffle tucked under one arm- they managed to score, and it only looked like it was going downhill from there. By the middle of the game, fourteen fouls had been committed- including Cobbing, Blatching, Blagging, and Snitchnip- although the latter was completely on accident when the Golden Snitch flew down the pants of the Ravenclaw Keeper, allowing the Gryffindors to score and Laura and the Ravenclaw’s seeker to chase the Keeper around the pitch for a few confusing minutes while Finstock tried to figure out why they were trying to reach down the Keeper’s pants. 

The Snitch escaped- but it was just fine with the Gryffindors, who were losing. It wasn’t too bad, they were only sixty points behind, they’d win if Laura caught the snitch, but they’d definitely lose if she didn’t. Another goal by Ravenclaw saw Laura sitting on her broom surveying the pitch. A few meters away, but much lower, the Ravenclaw Seeker was doing the same. The sun was barely out, clouds covering it, so the Snitch would be hard to spot. 

There was a faint whooshing sound that Laura would have missed if she hadn’t been paying attention, and had as many years of playing Quidditch as she had. She dropped down into a Sloth Grip Roll, hanging upside down on her broom to avoid a Bludger as it whizzed over her head, and turned back around to head back to her. A moment later, before it had a chance to speed up, one of the Beaters flashed by, yelling an apology for not seeing her, and hit it away. 

But Laura wasn’t paying attention- she’d seen the Snitch. Down seventy points, there was never going to be a better chance to catch it- if she waited too long, she might catch the Snitch but Ravenclaw would win. She swung back round and dove- it was right above the Ravenclaw hoops. As she dove, the Ravenclaw Seeker seemed to realize what she was doing, and followed after her. Laura, however, was a much better Seeker, with sharper eyes and a faster broom, catching the Snitch and stopping just an inch over the Keeper’s head. She waved her fist triumphantly over her head, as the crowed roared. 

The after game was all a blur to Stiles, everyone carrying Laura on their shoulders back to the common room where they all celebrated their victory- they’d taken the Quidditch cup from Ravenclaw! Professor Grinspun reluctantly handed it over to Professor Argent, and it sat in the common room for an entire week before being moved into Argent’s office. 

\---

The rest of the school year passed far too quickly for Stiles’ liking. It was insufferably hot, and everytime he and Scott walked outside, they came back in sweating. They even briefly considered taking a swim in the black lake, but weren’t sure how the giant squid, who seemed to pop up every other day to bask in the sun, would feel about that, so they refrained. 

When it came time for exams- the only week that passed slowly- Stiles was pretty sure he never wanted to see another quill again. There was a written exam for every class, and they’d all been given anti-cheating quills to write with. The practical exams followed them- turning quills into flowers for Transfiguration, having glasses spin like tops for Charms, brewing Forgetfulness Potions for Potions- and Stiles was pretty sure he did fine until Lydia came out talking about how challenging everything was, and mentioning things that Stiles hadn’t even thought of in months.

Scott was pretty sure he failed everything too, and that made Stiles feel better, since if he were held back, at least he’d have company. 

\---

With exams over, the school year was coming to an end, and even though Stiles was excited about not having to worry about class all summer and seeing his dad, he didn’t exactly want to leave Hogwarts either. He had a lot of friends he would miss, like Derek and Lydia and Scott, even though the latter he’d definitely see a lot during the summer if he had anything to say about it.

“Are you and your mom doing anything this summer?” Stiles asked Scott, the two of them feeding Crups down by the gamekeeper’s hut where Deaton kept all the animals for his Care of Magical Creatures class. While Stiles had been hanging out with Derek, Scott usually came down to the hut to check out the animals, and after awhile, Deaton had started to teach him how to care for some of the animals- even though he wasn’t a third year yet- and let him feed them sometimes. Stiles occasionally joined him. 

Scott shrugged, “My mom wrote and said we might have to go up to visit my Nan.”

A moment later, there was the sound of leaves rustling, and Deaton stepped out from the woods, “I see you boys are finished- thank you, Scott, and Stiles.” 

They nodded, and Scott said, “No problem!”

Deaton looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said, “For all your help this year, Scott, ten points to Hufflepuff,” Scott grinned, and then Deaton said, “And for your occasional help, five points to Gryffindor, Stiles.”

“Awesome!” Stiles said.

\---

On the last night of the term, everyone had set their affairs in order, packed, and were all ready to pile on the train the next morning. Everyone was making their way down to the Great Hall for the end-of-term feast, and the halls were buzzing with excitement, even though everyone already knew who had won the house cup this year, with the hall being decked out in red and gold, Gryffindor banners hanging down from the ceiling.

Stiles sat down at his usual place at the table, Boyd already there, but Allison hadn’t arrived yet. Someone sat down next to Stiles, and he turned, expecting it to be Allison, but instead he said, “Derek!”

Derek smiled, “Mind if I sit here?”

Stiles shook his head frantically as Allison sat down on his other side, glancing at Derek, and the feast started. The room quieted as Professor Davis walked up to the podium and cleared his throat.

“This year has been just as magical and exciting as the last- with a reprieve in the continuity of Ravenclaw winning the Quidditch cup, and even the house cup,” he gestured to the banners, and the Ravenclaws groaned. “And before we start the feast, and the summer, lets award the house cup- the points are as followed: in fourth place, Hufflepuff with three hundred and forty-six points; in third, Slytherin with three hundred and seventy; in second place, Ravenclaw with four hundred and twenty-one points; and finally, in first place, Gryffindor, with four hundred and ninety points!” he announced, and the Gryffindor table went wild.

Not only had they won the Quidditch cup, but they’d also won the house cup! Everyone had jumped up and cheered as the other tables clapped politely, albeit with sour looks on their faces. Everyone was jumping and screaming, Allison yelling as her father beamed proudly, Boyd stomping his feet, and Derek right beside Stiles, clapping and howling. Cheering, Stiles turned to Derek, and they grinned at each other briefly before Derek suddenly enveloped Stiles in a quick hug before letting him go, and turning to his sister, who’d been buried under a mound of people.

They’d won the house cup, it was going to be summer tomorrow, everything was great and they were all looking forward to next year...

\---

Their exam grades came the next morning, and Stiles and Scott found they’d passed with decent grades- although they were rather lacking in Potions, and apparently no one did very well in History, either. Lydia had spectacular grades, Danny and Allison only a little behind her, having studied with her. Everyone else did alright too, but by the time they were done celebrating passing, Professor Deaton was leading them down to the boats that took them to the train, where they were all passed notes warning them not to use magic over the holidays. Everyone climbed into their compartment, their stuff already there.

“I can’t believe it’s already been a year!” Lydia said, and Allison laughed.

“It seemed to pass so quickly!” she said, “Soon enough we’ll be back.”

\---

Once they arrived onto the platform, people were pouring out of the train. Some parents had been let onto the platform, but most were in the larger part of the station. An old guard was letting people off the platform in twos and threes so it wouldn’t startle the muggles, and so Scott and Stiles were pushed through together. He spotted his dad, who yelled, “Stiles! This way!” 

Stiles ran up and hugged him, as Scott yelled out, “Mom!” and ran to his mother, who was standing next to DI Stilinski. He let go and looked around briefly, spotting the rest of his friends as Scott talked to his mom.

Erica’s mom, it looked like, came to pick Erica and Boyd up, her blonde hair matching Erica’s, as she looked the two of them over and cooed about how much they’d grown. Isaac’s dad ordered him to get in the goddamn car, and Isaac flinched; Danny went with Jackson’s family a few feet away. 

Derek, Stiles spotted, was with his sisters, and pushing their carts towards a smiling woman. Thalia- Derek’s mother- kissed them all- Laura just kissed back, Derek squirmed and Cora hugged her, burying her face in her mom’s scent. She put her arms around their shoulders and lead them away, as another one of his friends passed his line of sight. 

Lydia and her parents had met on the platform, Allison and her father having dropped them off and gone away with a woman with short red hair. Lydia’s mother was beautiful, with long black hair, but there was something about her face that looks almost gaunt, in certain light, and something about it bothered Stiles, but it was soon lost in the back of his mind as he turned to his dad, who said, “Ready to go home?” Stiles nodded, “How was your year, son?” Stilinski asked, putting his arm around Stiles’ shoulder and pushing the cart with his other. Stiles grinned. 

“It was _awesome_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda accidentally took forever in writing this, because it was originally intended just to be like 8k (which Sav thought was gonna be a lot, since like, 7 chapters and an epilogue) but then. Oops. It was was supposed to be done like, two months ago, but I’m in college now, so I got a little distracted with things like joining my college’s Quidditch team. So yeah. I’m a beater.
> 
> \---
> 
> Year Two: Things we will never see again
> 
> And then it's second year and Stiles is beyond ready to get back to school, maybe for a reason that has to do with a scary seventh year who... doesn't show up. (Because, he finds out later, his entire family was murdered by one of Allison's crazy aunts, and if that doesn't get her a few stares...)


	2. Year Two: Things we will never see again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then it's second year and Stiles is beyond ready to get back to school, maybe for a reason that has to do with a scary seventh year who... doesn't show up. (Because, he finds out later, his entire family was murdered by one of Allison's crazy aunts, and if that doesn't get her a few stares...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!! Really, I am!! I kinda set an unrealistic goal date, with finals in the middle of when I said I'd be done. So here, sorry it's a bit late!
> 
> Also, thanks again, to my favorite angry editor, Savanna, I love you dearly. You once again put up with two months of dumb questions and silly ideas really late at night (or early in the morning, depending on the way you look at it…)

Stiles was ready to go back to school. It was sweltering, and he hadn’t moved in three hours. He was hanging off the side of the bed, upside down, staring at the ceiling. They’d gone school supply shopping two days ago, and his new books were piled next to his old ones, his cauldron in the corner with the Marauder’s Map sticking out of it, and his open trunk at the foot of his bed with his robes spilling out. And now there really wasn’t anything for him to do- he’d taken to watching the map on occasion, but after a while the two teachers’ names that moved around the map got boring, since no one was at school yet.

He’d spent most of the summer watching TV or reading comic books when he wasn’t hanging out with Scott, who had stayed for nearly a week- his dad had been really happy about it for the first two days- _Stiles had friends_ \- but after two more days of staying up all night and sneaking out in the middle of the day, and making one trip to a crime scene with Scott in tow, his dad had retracted his statement. As much fun as things like technology and the internet were, Stiles wanted to go back to school. He was itching to use magic, and his wand was in his trunk, unused for several weeks. He’d taken it out a few times to look at it, but he knew he’d be expelled if he even tried to use it- and as much fun as getting expelled was...

And then there were his friends. He hadn’t seen any of them except for Scott- no one had heard from Isaac, Lydia had only written back once, he and Allison had exchanged a few letters, and Stiles hadn’t really tried anyone else in his year, since Erica kinda scared him and he wasn’t sure anyone else would reply. But he _did_ write Derek. He’d written back to the first two letters Stiles wrote, but he never replied to the third. It wasn’t that important, he was probably busy or something, but Stiles was still excited to see him, since this year Derek would be a seventh year, and would graduate at the end of the year and therefore could only see him during breaks.

\---

On September first, Stiles woke up to his dad yelling, “Stiles! Wake up! If you don’t hurry you’ll miss the train.”

Stiles shot out of bed and looked at his alarm clock- which had apparently not gone off. It was nine AM, which meant he had two hours to get to the train, but traffic might be bad and he still had to eat breakfast, and what if it left early? He had no idea how to get to Hogwarts! He wouldn’t be able to go to school! They would probably just say, ‘Oh, Stiles isn’t here, he probably didn’t want to be a wizard anymore,’ and then they’d forget about him and he’d have to go to a boring muggle school and- 

“I _do_ want to be a wizard!” Stiles said, running into the kitchen in his underwear. His dad looked up from his coffee from where he was leaning against the counter in the small kitchen. 

He raised an eyebrow, “Stiles, you _are_ a wizard,” Stilinski sighed, shaking his head, muttering, “I can’t believe I’m really saying that in all seriousness.”

“I know but if I miss the train I won’t make it to school and Headmaster Davis will think I don’t want to be a wizard anymore an-” Stiles rushed out, before his dad cut him off.

“Stiles, you aren’t going to miss the train. We have,” he glanced down at his watch, “almost two hours. But if you don’t hurry we might get there a little later than we did last year. Traffic doesn’t look so good kiddo. Shreddies are on the table.”

Stiles plopped down in his regular chair, pouring himself a bowl. That was another thing he missed about Hogwarts. The food.

\---

They made it to King’s Cross in time, just like DI Stilinski said they would. Stiles spotted Scott hanging out the window, waving to his mom on the platform, when he pushed through the barrier with his dad in tow. Jackson was being fussed over by an older woman and looking dour, Allison kissed her mother goodbye, and Stiles spotted a few more people he knew on the platform before shoving his trunk into the train and dragging it into their compartment. He’d given his dad a short goodbye with a hug, he’d see him in a few months, and he promised he’d write. Scott pulled his head back inside the compartment when Stiles pulled his trunk up to the already-large pile, and lit up, “Stiles!”

“Hey Scott,” Stiles said. Scott looked mostly the same since Stiles had seen him last, with his shaggy hair and tee shirt, grinning. His mom had tried to cut it before school, but Scott whined the entire time and the next morning it had just grown back, so his mother had given up. At least she could say she _tried_ with him. 

“Lydia, Erica, and Boyd are already here,” Scott informed him, nodding to the pile of trunks into the corner, and as if on cue, Seline hissed from the upper compartment. “I think they went to find other friends.”

Stiles joined Scott at the window, and looked out, seeing his dad had found Scott’s mom, both of them looking like they were in good spirits. He glanced across the platform, looking for anyone he might know- _not_ just Derek! Although he was certainly looking forward to seeing him again. Scott liked to tease him about it. He was just jealous he didn’t have any cool seventh year friends.  

Stiles was searching the platform- he’d spotted James Swern, one of his roommates- when he heard a grunt just below the window, and an impatient voice called, “Well, isn’t anyone going to help me with this?” Stiles looked down, and Jackson was huffing below the window. 

Stiles rolled his eyes, and said, waving over his shoulder, “C’mon Scott, lets go help him.” 

Scott followed him out of the compartment as Arthur Brimble walked by, and Stiles grabbed his arm, “Arthur!” making him halt, and nodded for Scott to continue on. Scott hopped off the train onto the platform, and started tugging Jackson’s trunk into the train. “Have you seen Derek Hale yet?” he asked, and the redhead shook his head, and Stiles added as an afterthought, “Or Cora?” Cora’d probably know where her brother was, if she were anything like her older Head Girl sister. Laura had pointed him in Derek’s direction quite a few times. 

“No, I haven’t seen either of them.”

Stiles nodded, “Thanks,” and followed after Scott. If he couldn’t find either of them on the train, he’d just have to say hi once they got to school. Jackson was grunting, and whining as he and Scott managed to get the trunk up into the hall. Behind him was Danny, waiting patiently. “Need help?" 

“I’m not carrying bricks like Jackson, but okay,” Danny said, shrugging, and the two of them pulled the trunk into the hall, Jackson the rat perched on top of it. When they made it back to the compartment, Lydia, Erica, and Boyd had come back from wherever they’d gone and Allison was in the hall, leaning against the compartment and talking with another girl in their year. Isaac walked in a few seconds after the train whistled, marking it eleven.

Now that everyone was here, Stiles scooched over next to Scott- he’d learned his lesson last year about sitting next to Boyd and Erica, they claimed nearly the entire seat- and Lydia, who still seemed intent on ignoring him. But it was okay. He still had his seven-year plan on making her fall in love with him. He could be patient. Danny and Jackson squeezed in across from them, and Allison joined Lydia and Isaac. 

As the train started catching speed, Seline hopped down from the shelf and onto Erica’s shoulder, and started purring at her, Erica purring back as she stroked her fur. No one seemed to think it was strange, that was just Erica. Todd was in Scott’s pocket, he could tell, despite Scott trying to leave him behind again. His mom was starting to think it wasn’t an accident. 

As the train sped through the hillside, they started to share stories of what they did over the summer. Stiles knew most of what Scott had been doing, up till the point where he said, “Oh! Guess what we found out!” and then explained that his mother had found something that looked suspiciously like Floo powder in the attic when she and Scott were cleaning it, and when they tested it out- Scott ended up in his grandparent’s fire place and they’d had to call his mom to send more through the fireplace; essentially confirming that his dad had been a wizard. 

\---

The train ride was pleasant, as always- during lunch they got a few things off the trolley, sharing and passing around things, Lydia and Isaac trying to read textbooks, Boyd calming Gubbins down as he flapped around in his cage- and the trip seemed to end rather quickly, not that Stiles minded, they were heading back to Hogwarts! As soon as the train stopped, they hopped up and shuffled outside, paying careful attention to the other students, since they’d only gotten to Hogwarts on the boats before, and they weren’t going to do that again this year.

They all made their way towards the coaches in a swarm of students, and Stiles froze, blocking the way of his friends. Leading the coaches were winged, horse-like reptile things, that were almost skeletal. They were nearly horrifying. Stiles pointed to them, and said, "Oh my god what's that?"

Scott, next to him, said, "Um, a coach?" 

Stiles shook his head, and pointed, “No, pulling the coach!”

“You’d think you’d never seen an invisible horse before,” Jackson muttered, pushing past him, “Get out of the way if you’re going to stop and gape,” climbing into the carriage.

“Stiles?” Scott said, and looked concerned, glancing back towards the carriages. Allison peered out beside him.

“They’ve been at Hogwarts forever, Stiles, they’re safe, I promise,” she said, her look of concern mirroring Scott’s.

“You mean you really can’t see them?” Stiles asked, “But they’re right there- they’re like, skeletons, with bat wings.”

“That sounds cool, why can’t I see them?” Scott whined, his concern melting away as he went into best friend mode. Carriages came and went as students flooded around them, stepping up and being pulled away.

“They’re called Thestrals. To see them you must first have seen death,” someone said, sadly, from behind the group. They all turned to see Deaton standing behind them, and the group of bright-eyed first years following him. He was looking towards the Thestrals, and Stiles had the feeling he could see them. He stood up a little straighter, and said towards the first years, “Right, well, that’s enough of a lesson for one day, you’ll have plenty more of that in the next few weeks. First years this way!” he said, and they followed him. 

“Stiles?” Allison asked, and he was still looking at the Thestrals.

He looked down, “I was with my mom when she died.”

They stood there silently for a moment, unsure of what to say, until Isaac awkwardly shifted towards the next coach, and climbed in. 

“Guys?” he said, hanging out the open door, and Scott nudged Stiles, the three of them heading after him- everyone else had gone in the other coach with Jackson. 

The ride to the castle was not as spectacular as the view from the boats had been, but it was still incredible, despite the musty smell inside the carriage. They traveled down the pathway to huge iron gates flanked by stone columns, and then up the path towards the castle, where they stopped and climbed out. They looked up at the giant castle towering overhead, and then followed the swarm up the stone steps, through the great oak doors, and into the Entrance Hall. 

The Great Hall hadn’t lost any of the magic from their first day stepping into the halls, but it was a lot more familiar to them. The ceiling was bewitched to reflect the weather outside, and candles hung in the air above, chatter and laughter echoing throughout the room as everyone got seated. Scott and Isaac headed towards their usual spot at the Hufflepuff table, Allison and Stiles moved towards Boyd at their own table. Moments later, Allison’s dad lead a group of terrified-looking first years into the hall to be sorted. 

Professor Argent placed the stool in front of the hall, just like he had for them, and produced the Sorting Hat- just as wizened and beat up as last year. Argent began explaining the sorting hat- which promptly began singing (a much better song than theirs, Stiles noticed)- as Stiles glanced around the hall. Up at the head table, Headmaster Davis in plain black robes was sitting at the head of the table. Various other teachers Stiles recognized- Professor Deaton, Jennifer Blake, Sachrima Kapur, Kettlewig- all were chatting happily and paying rapt attention to the students being sorted into their houses. Sitting rather close together, Stiles noticed, were two teachers Stiles had the previous year- and would have again this year, most likely- Emma Vanity and Cassiopeia Grinspun, the Transfiguration and Astronomy teachers respectively. The two of them, like all the other professors, clapped politely when any student was sorted, but both cheered when students were sorted into their respective houses. 

As the last student was sorted- a girl, into Gryffindor, Stiles stood up and cheered with the rest of them as she was patted on the back and welcomed with open arms to the Gryffindor table- Headmaster Davis stood up and started his annual start of term speech. Stiles finally remembered what he had been meaning to do- find Derek. Stiles strained his neck trying to peer over the heads of people behind him who were all trying to hear the headmaster’s speech. At the end of the table where Derek normally sat, other students had taken his place. Cora was nowhere to be seen either, and Stiles would have thought they would have stuck together, being the only two werewolves at Hogwarts, since Laura graduated last year. 

But apparently they had moved seats, because neither Derek nor Cora were at their usual spot at the Gryffindor table. Stiles glanced up and down the table for another moment, as the headmaster finished his speech, and the food magically appeared on the table. Derek and Cora weren’t there. Stiles elbowed the boy sitting next to him, Clive, one of the other second year boys. “Have you seen Cora Hale? Or her brother?” Stiles asked loudly, over the voices of the other students. 

Clive shook his head, but turned towards a girl a few places down, and with a mouth full of corn, yelled, “Oi, Kat, have you seen the Hales?” 

She yelled back, red hair flicked with mashed potatoes, “No, they weren’t on the train, I figured Derek had apparated them to Hogsmeade. Ask Alice,” she said and then turned to another girl across from her, “Alice! You liked to hang with Paige, what happened to her boyfriend?”

Alice looked up, seeming offended, “He wasn’t her _boyfriend_ , Kat!” The two of them bicked back and forth for another few moments. Stiles was ready to slam his head into the table.

One of the other seventh year boys, Rodney Crowden, leaned over, and said, “Didn’t you hear? Derek Hale’s entire family burned to death in a fire over the summer. Some anti-werewolf extremist, they say,” he said, shaking his head.

Stiles’ blood ran cold. This was so, so much worse than just missing the train. Oh- oh god he could feel a panic attack coming on- it wasn’t the first one, he’d had several since his mother died- and oh god, _Derek_ -

“Is he- is Derek-” but he couldn’t get the words out, he was scrambling for purchase on Allison’s shoulder, as she was talking to one of the new Gryffindors, with a smile on her face.

She turned to Stiles, instantly losing her smile, “Stiles are you okay?” a look of concern bleeding into her features. She took a hold of his hand, and tried to steady him. “Boyd?” she called.

Boyd leaned over the table, frowning, “Allison, Stiles?”

“Derek- he-”

Rodney turned back from where he was piling seconds- or was it thirds?- onto his plate, “Oh Derek? From what I hear, he and his sisters are all alive. They took a day trip to London, just the three of them. The arsonist didn’t know they were gone, or maybe he did. But they all moved. France, I hear,” he said, turning back to the conversation. A girl laughed hysterically next to him, accidentally knocking over a glass of something fizzy, making her giggle harder, sopping it up with a napkin before someone pulled out a wand.

“Stiles, Stiles!” Allison was still saying, but it was like Stiles was in a vortex. Derek was alive, his sisters were alive, but- everyone else was _not_. 

His mom, the lady standing on the platform, who used to send him cookies and write long letters to her kids, asking about their schoolwork and friends. The same mom who Derek said would tell them stories of her little brother, the mom who once accidentally sent Laura a Howler intended for Peter. Their dad- a scruffy man whom Stiles had only seen in a picture because of the time he’d insisted on trying to knit them all scarves, and managed to have it all end up so terribly that Derek’s mother had taken pictures for evidence and sent it with the scarves. Derek’s uncle, Peter, who was his best friend and closest confidant- along with everyone else Stiles had never met, but made up Derek’s _whole world_. They were all _dead_. 

Stiles didn’t have the faintest idea what that felt like. His mother had gotten sick and wasted away before his eyes over the period of months, and when the end came- and they knew it was coming- he hadn’t cried. He’d finally cried at her funeral, but he’d done so much crying over the year leading up to her death, that up until that moment he hadn’t been sure he _could_ cry anymore. 

Stiles’ dad’s parents were still alive, even if he only saw them once or twice a year. His mother’s parents he’d only seen maybe eight or ten times in his life, and when they’d died when he was eight, he’d cried for the _possibility_ of grandparents, almost rather than for who they were. But Derek’s family- they were his whole life, he used to talk about them _all the time_. 

He’d been suddenly robbed of everyone he ever cared about in his entire life except for Cora and Laura, and Stiles didn’t know what he would have done if his dad had been murdered. Maybe run away to France. 

“Stiles!” Boyd yelled, and Stiles was pulled back to reality. The yelling of the crowed had been muted out, but was all brought back into sharp focus. Boyd and Allison were both looking at him with concern. 

“Maybe I should get a teacher-” Allison said, glancing behind her at the head table.

Stiles stood up abruptly, suddenly not hungry anymore, “I’m okay,” Stiles said, and not caring who saw him, fled the great hall. He ran to Gryffindor tower, up to his dorm which now said _Second Years_ , not stopping once, tearing open his trunk, and picked up the first quill and ink he found, and started writing. 

He wasn’t even sure what it said, maybe a lot of _oh my god Derek I am so sorry_ , and more than a few _I know you don’t like talking but you can talk to me if you want, I get what losing a loved one feels like_. 

And then he sent it, with an, _I miss you_ , attached to the end, very nearly almost scratched out with the bright, blood red ink he’d bought over the summer, and as he watched Striggy disappear into the sky with the letter, thought about how, maybe, his choice of color hadn’t been the best. 

He never gets a reply. 

\---

Stiles woke up the next morning, still in his robe from the previous day, having fallen asleep on his bed, and rubbed his eyes. Boyd was tying his tie next to his bed, and looked over at Stiles, “Allison wanted to know you were okay, and said we shouldn’t wake you.”

Stiles sat up, and peeled off his robe, and started rustling through his trunk for a fresh one, “What’s the password?” He would have gotten it last night, after dinner, but since he didn’t actually _eat_ dinner- speaking of which, he was _starved_.

Boyd looked over at him, and frowned, “Pimsywim. How did you even get in here?”

Stiles' mouth was dry. He frowned as he looked down. “I don’t know.”

\---

Over breakfast, Allison kept stealing glances at him, as if he were going to- _explode_ or something, and when she finally talked to him, she talked to him as he were fragile- god, he wasn’t going to break. It wasn’t _his_ family that was massacred. 

As it was the first day of classes, things were going rather slowly. He didn’t have a first period as usual, but his second period was Defense Against the Dark Arts with Hufflepuff, as usual. Scott kept looking at him throughout the class- Allison must have filled him in- and acting like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. For once, Stiles was grateful for the silence. He didn’t even though what to think anymore. The Wizarding world was supposed to be _safe_ \- an escape from reality, quite literally a magical place. After class, Scott chased after him, although his next class was in an entirely different direction. 

“Stiles! Wait up!” Scott said, huffing when he finally caught up with him, books tucked up under his arm, as the two of them walked through the halls. “Stiles, are you okay?”

Stiles sighed, and shook his head, “I’m okay.” Scott nodded, and continued beside him. “I just- I want to know what happened!” Stiles said, clenching his fists. “I _hate_ not knowing- if this were a muggle attack, I’d be able to sneak into my dad’s office and find the file, but it’s _not_. And I can’t even get a magic newspaper!” Stiles said.

Scott paused, and Stiles stopped. Scott smiled, “Would you feel better if you knew what happened?”

Stiles nodded. “Aren’t you going to be late for class?”

Scott smiled at him, and said, “I don’t care.”

\---

The next morning at breakfast, Scott sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Stiles, and dropped a newspaper- a copy of the Daily Prophet- on the table next to Stiles’ plate. He was grinning. Stiles, with a mouth full of toast, said, “Wassat?” 

Scott only grinned wider, “It’s a copy of the Daily Prophet!”

Stiles swallowed, “Yeah but why?”

“It’s the newspaper you wanted! The one on the Hale house fire!” Stiles grabbed it and pulled it open. Scott was right- it had various magical pictures from the scene- the flames licking higher on the shell of what had probably been a magnificent mansion- and the official statement by the ministry saying this kind of thing would _never_ be allowed, and whoever was responsible would be held accountable for their deeds- and including a horrible death count of _eight people_. Some of whom were muggles. 

Stiles reread the article at least twice before looking up, “How did you get it?” 

He shrugged, “Emily’s mom keeps all of the interesting headlines in the Daily Prophet. I asked if her mom had this one and she sent her an owl.”

Stiles pulled him into a hug and said, mumbling into his shoulder, “You’re the best friend ever.”

\---

The first week was always the easiest, getting students back into the rhythm of school and magic, but by no means were the teachers going easy on them. In Herbology- with the Ravenclaws, again- they were taken to greenhouse three for the first time. Professor Dippet had pulled out a large key, unlocking the greenhouse and ushering all the second years inside, where they were met with large blooming flowers and pots of unidentifiable magical greenery. 

Professor Dippet pulled out a bin of earmuffs- all different colors, and started passing them around. Lydia got a pair of bright blue ones, and she looked at them distastefully, handing Stiles a mucus-yellow pair. “Today we will be learning about Mandrakes- can anyone tell me about Mandrakes?” he asked, his Scottish accent heavy, looking from face to face. Nearly everyone shielded their eyes away from him. “No?” he sighed, “Very well. Mandrakes can restore those who have been cursed or transfigured to their original state. However, they can be very dangerous. Can anyone tell me why?” 

Nobody spoke once again. Danny looked around and then sighed, raising his hand. Dippet looked delighted, picking on him at once. “Their cry is fatal to those who hear it.”

“Exactly! Ten points to Ravenclaw.” Danny looked pleased, and the Gryffindors shifted around mumbling to themselves. Those were some of the first points awarded this year, and they’d only just broken free from the seven-year Ravenclaw win. “The Mandrakes we have here today are quite young, therefore their cry is not fatal, however it will knock you unconscious for quite a bit of time.” The Mandrakes in the pots were purplish-green in color, with little tufts, and didn’t look the least bit capable of crying. Everyone looked a little bit closer, when Dippet said, “Put the earmuffs on now- make sure they _completely_ cover your ears, now!”

Beside Lydia, Allison put on her own pair of brown fluffy ones, and turned to the professor. Stiles pulled on his own, and found they completely blocked out sound. Once the professor made sure everyone was wearing a pair, he reached down to the pot at his feet, and grasped the tuft firmly, before pulling it straight out of the pot. Instead of roots, they were all shocked to find that the Mandrake looked like a terribly ugly baby, covered in dirt with the leaves growing right out of the top of it’s head. 

It was screaming loudly, but they could barely hear it through the earmuffs around their ears. Dippet held it up for everyone to see. It was still screaming when there came a loud, high-pitched wail from their side of the room. Dippet’s grin dropped as they all snapped their head towards- Lydia, who was screaming right back at the Mandrake. The Mandrake Dippet was holding suddenly stopped screaming, looking traumatized, like no one had ever screamed back at it before. Dippet himself looked rather bewildered, quickly repotting the Mandrake in the larger pot next to the plant’s original one. He peeled off his own ear muffs, and assuming it was safe to do so, the rest of the class followed, all staring at Lydia.

Lydia looked around and shrugged, saying, "I'm one-fourth banshee on my mother's side." 

\---

The rest of Stiles’ classes only got progressively more difficult. In Transfiguration, they were supposed to be turning a beetle into a button, but nobody’s really did anything, and Erica accidentally killed three of them. Professor Vanity apparently had the patience of a saint. 

History of Magic was as boring as ever, Professor Binns hadn’t changed the slightest, and never _would_ change. 

In Defense Against the Dark Arts, they had outlined their plan for the year, which started with Cornish pixies, and Allison had grown used to having her father as her teacher. 

Charms wasn’t too bad, but Potions was terrible, although no one managed to blow anything up on the first day. Astronomy had been moved to Thursday night at midnight.

\---

By the time the first week was over, Stiles had probably read the report on the Hale house fire a dozen times. According to the Daily Prophet, the arsonists- who were most definitely wizards and witches- had put up anti-escape charms all around the house. And then they had put mountain ash- which was a ward against werewolves- around the property as extra protection against them. They’d locked them inside, essentially. Then they’d set the house ablaze with Gubraithian fire, which was supposedly meant to burn forever. Workers at the ministry worked for days putting it out with all the dampening spells they could think of. 

Stiles was reading it once again on the way to breakfast on monday morning. Scott was rolling his eyes, and telling him to drop it, there wasn’t anything he could do. And Stiles promised he would, but he just had to read it _one more time._

Allison was already at the table when he and Scott arrived- Scott waving to her, and then departing for his own table. Boyd followed shortly, having parted with Erica at the door, where she joined the Slytherin table with Jackson. 

Breakfast started out like any other morning, but it only went downhill from there. And when he said downhill, he meant _straight off a cliff_. Mail came in quickly, owls dropping off copies of the Daily Prophet onto plates and into laps, packages smacking wizards and witches in the heads, dropping off things their parents found they’d forgotten, at the last minute.

After finding out about the Hale house fire, Stiles wrote to his dad begging for him to be allowed to subscribe to the Daily Prophet. Of course he didn’t tell him the real reason why, but he was happy his son was taking an interest in the news. An owl dropped Stiles’ copy into his lap. All around them, people were tearing into their copies over sausages and cups of orange juice, toast and porridge falling onto the pages as people read.

Almost simultaneously, people started gasping, their mouths dropping open as they read the front page of the Daily Prophet. Up at the head table, several teachers had opened their copies and were reading with a grim expression, lips pressed together. Stiles frowned, and looked at his own copy, pulling off the string, and pulling it open.

On the cover was a mug shot of a blonde woman baring her teeth at the camera, almost snarling, and nearly looking pleased. On the bottom of her picture was her name- Kate Argent. The headline was ‘ARGENT ARRESTED FOR MURDER OF HALES IN HALE HOUSE FIRE’

Stiles gasped, and turned to Allison, who was blissfully unaware. Everyone else who’d started to read the article had also turned to her or her father, who was staring down at the paper was a grim, disappointed expression. An owl- Stiles recognized it as Allison’s mother’s- flew in frantically, and dropped a letter in Deputy Headmaster Argent’s lap.

Stiles quickly turned to the Daily Prophet, reading it over. His head was spinning- according to the article, Allison’s aunt had murdered the eight people in the Hale fire. She and her two accomplices- Reddick and Unger, two thug-looking wizards- had set the house ablaze, and all three had been apprehended and sentenced to life in Azkaban. 

Stiles turned to Allison, where her grin was fading. She’d seen everyone looking at her. “Stiles, let me see your paper.”

Stiles grasped it, and held it close to him, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

She looked shaken, but determined, “Stiles, give me that paper.” He reluctantly handed it over. He watched as her eyes traced across the paper, shock marking her features. 

“This can’t be- I just saw her before school-” she said, her voice shaken. “I didn’t know, god, I didn’t know-” she said, standing up, the room silent, all eyes on her, including her father’s. She turned and fled before she even finished breakfast.

“Allison!” Professor Argent called out, and he looked like he was ready to go after her, but one of the teachers- Grinspun- grabbed his arm, and shook her head. He sat reluctantly sat down as the murmur of breakfast started up again. From the Hufflepuff table, Stiles saw Scott get up and head after Allison. 

\---

Allison skipped all her classes that day. None of the teachers said anything about it except to ask her friends if they would please deliver her homework. 

She skipped the following day, and then the day after that, and then soon enough it was a whole week. Still, none of the teachers said anything- maybe it was because her father said something to them, or maybe they were doing it out of respect. Either way, there was no protocol for havng a mass-murderer for an aunt. 

Stiles knew for a fact she was holed up in her bedroom, and hadn’t been down at all since Monday. Lydia occasionally went to see her, even Erica once made a trip up there, but none of the boys could, not even teachers. Eventually, on Monday afternoon, she made a trip down to see her father, who had sent an owl up. He’d explained everything- Kate really did murder those people, but in no way was it any of their faults. She was still clinging onto the idea that werewolves are all evil, and she believed that the Argents should go back to hunting werewolves, not letting them attend school with wizards and witches. She explained this in a dead voice to Scott and Stiles, who has been waiting outside the office for her, and hopped up when she made an appearance, but then disappeared back up to her room.

The next morning, Stiles was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, and when she finally came down- after everyone else had cleared out- Stiles was waiting for her. He asked, “Ready to go back to class?” 

She nodded, but didn’t say anything. They headed out of the commons room together, and waiting outside were her friends, who didn’t want to crowd her immediately- Lydia took her hand, Scott waiting eagerly to make sure she was okay. 

\---

Getting back into the habit of school was easy for Allison- they said routine was good for people. However, whenever she walked past other students in the halls, she heard whispers of, "The Argents- didn't you know? They were an ancient family of werewolf hunters!" and "Their last name- Argent- means silver; that's where the myth of killing wolves with silver came from!"  

For weeks following, some parents call for Argent to be sacked, not wanting their children to be around that kind of family, others send him thank you notes for ridding the world of that kind of menace- of course, Stiles shouldn’t technically know any of this, but the teachers talk, and he and Allison once broke into her dad’s office. 

And when they would talk about Allison- whether to her face or in hushed whispers and stolen glances- Stiles glared at them, and Boyd would say, "C'mon, don't listen to them," and covered her back, pushing her away from them. 

\---

By mid-October, Allison was seemingly alright, and everyone in their year was buzzing with excitement. One member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team graduated- Laura- which meant the position of Seeker was open. Two members of the Ravenclaw team left, and no one left from either the Slytherin or the Hufflepuff teams, but they were holding practice anyway. And, as second years, it was the first time they were allowed to join the Quidditch team. 

Scott, Stiles, Jackson, and Danny were all going to try out for their respective teams. When they all showed up, there were at least twenty people from each house. Stiles was, of course, trying out for Beater, but there wasn’t an open spot, so he’d have to beat out one of the old ones in order to be on the team this year. 

“I’m going to try for Chaser!” Scott said, holding onto his borrowed broom tightly. 

Jackson scoffed, “Yeah, okay. Watch me. You’ll see how a real chaser acts,” getting up on his broom, flying off to join the rest of those trying out for his team.

“What are you trying for?” Stiles asked Danny, who was leaning on his own borrowed broom. His parents hadn’t wanted to buy him one until he was sure he would need one- they were expensive. 

“Keeper,” Danny said, “I’m pretty good. I really hope I make the team- Keeper is open, so I won’t have to go against anyone who’s actually played for Hogwarts before. Good luck,” he said, departing from them, and walking towards the group of waiting Ravenclaws.

By the end of the tryouts, Scott has been thoroughly bested by both the Chasers on the Hufflepuff team, as had Stiles with the Beaters on the Gryffindor team. Neither of them were very disheartened- it was only their second year, and they’d rather see their teams win than be on the team and lose because of it. Jackson had flown away directly after the Slytherin tryouts, so they assumed he hadn’t made the team, but Danny flew down cheering. He’d made the team! Danny was now the official Ravenclaw Keeper. 

\---

Now with Danny’s weekends and afternoons and occasional mornings being taken up with Quidditch practice and the rest of the group getting a hang of their studies and life at Hogwarts, everyone started finding other things to fill their time. Clubs had started up, and there were a million to choose from, as well as the other after school activities. 

The week before Halloween, Allison showed up in the Gryffindor commons room with a flier in her hand. She stood over Stiles, who was sitting in a chair in front of the fireplace, and leaned in front of him, blocking his view. “Stiles, I’m joining the French Club, the meeting is in an hour. Won’t you please go with me?” she asked.

“But-” he protested.

“Pleaseeee, Stiles?” she begged, “I don’t want to go alone.”

“Why don’t you bring Lydia?” Stiles asked. “Wait,” he said, sitting up, “ _are_ you bringing Lydia?”

She shook her head, “No, it would just be us. Please, Stiles? I want it to be you.”

Stiles sighed, and slouched back into the overstuffed chairs, “ _Fine_.”

An hour later the two of them were in one of the high towers, learning French from Madam Morell, who had studied in France for several years before taking the position at Hogwarts after the last nurse retired. They found they weren’t the only beginners in the subject, two third years had joined this year as well, and they were grouped together to study the structure of sentences. 

A few days later, Scott and Stiles joined the Wizard Card Collectors’ Club in Classroom 5B, which promotes the collecting and trading of collectable cards. In addition to simply collecting cards- which both of them already did- there were games for them to play with pairs of two cards, as well as prizes for those able to collect specific card sets. After the first meeting, Scott and Stiles left several cards richer, and satisfied they’d gotten rid of their extra cards.

Danny and Isaac joined the Rat Race Club (which meets on Wednesdays at 5:45) together, the two of them using Danny’s rat- Jackson- and the occasional non-magical rats they catch around the kitchens. 

Lydia joined the art club, coming back with about forty drawings, sketches, and paintings of the tree they were using as a subject that week. She sent six or seven of them home, and threw the others away. 

\---

The Halloween feast was as magnificent as it was the previous year- Deaton’s pumpkins had been enchanted to change faces every once in awhile, so it looked like they were laughing or crying, grinning or glaring. It was pouring on Halloween night, so the enchanted ceiling reflected it, the raindrops looking as though they were going to splash down upon the golden plates. The whole room glowed orange, and occasionally there was a loud cackling scream from a corner of the room.

On the tables were a number of delicious foods- roasted meats, potatoes, candies and puddings. Inside some cauldrons there were mounds of candy, in others, there were bubbling green potions that would occasionally produce rats or snakes or things that looked suspiciously like human eyes.

As the feast was winding down, and Stiles and his friends had had their fill, the entertainment came out- Professor Davis had hired a real skeleton band! One of the members had a trumpet pressed to his non-existant lips, another had a saxaphone, and another a drum set. Surprisingly, they played excellently, for not having any lungs, muscles, or real hands!

\---

The following week, when Scott and Stiles were heading to Deaton’s hut to continue their job from last year, they walked past the black lake, spotting Boyd standing near the edge of the lake. Scott grabbed Stiles arm to stop him, and pointed it out, the two of them watching for a moment, as Boyd held out his hand, filled with- cream puffs from dinner?

A few seconds later, a giant tentacle sprang out of the lake, and wrapped around Boyd’s hand, pulling on it, pulling him towards the lake. Stiles and Scott sprang into action, ready to help Boyd- who was now on his knees- but as they reached the water, they found he was laughing, as the giant squid rubbed it’s tentacles on his face. Stiles gaped at him. It was one of the only times he’d seen Boyd unconditionally happy. 

“It’s alright- hey, buddy, cut it out,” Boyd chuckled. The squid dropped it’s tentacles and started splashing around playfully in the lake next to him. Boyd sat back, and said, “Since Cora left,” he said, and he dropped his gaze. Oh. Stiles had forgotten that he wasn’t the only one who liked the Hales. Cora was Boyd’s friend. “I didn’t really have anyone to hang out with when Erica was busy, so I used to sit out here. The giant squid started taking a liking to me, I guess,” he shrugged, “and so I started feeding it cream puffs from dinner.” He smiled, “he really likes them.”

“Ooh,” Scott said. “Maybe we’ll join you sometime!” Boyd nodded, and Scott waved back towards him and the squid as the two of them started back towards Deaton’s.

Stiles shook his head, “Only Boyd would make friends with the giant squid,” Scott chuckled.

\---

The first Quidditch match of the year was between Gryffindor and Slytherin, the second weekend of November, which was a week later than Stiles and Scott met Boyd’s new friend. Everyone was cheering especially loudly because it was the first year that people their age were allowed on the Quidditch team, and although it’s none of their friends, one of the Slytherin girls joined the Quidditch team, so at least Erica and Jackson were excited, although the latter still liked to sulk every so often. The match was a quick one- which really was in Stiles’ favor, he hadn’t even begun to start his essay on “The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards” and it was supposed to be three-feet long, due Tuesday- with a victory for Slytherin. The new girl- Helena Paris- was quite good at being a Beater. 

Matt had resumed his job from last year, taking pictures of the matches for the school. For most of the game, he focused his efforts on the players- most notably Helena, the newest addition to his own house’s team. However, towards the end of the game, Stiles spotted him taking pictures in their direction. He said loudly to his friends, “Shouldn’t he be taking pictures of the game?” 

Allison shrugged, and said, “Maybe he takes pictures of other things?” returning to watch the game.

\---

On Tuesday- after a sunday of rushed writing- Stiles showed up in History of Magic with a totally fabricated essay. Of course, all the facts were true, and he got the essentials of what Professor Binns was looking for, but he wrote so largely that the ghost professor wouldn’t have any trouble reading it, even without his glasses. Since he’d had a free period after Transfiguration, he didn’t have to rush to class like he might have had to for some other class. When he arrived, nearly everyone was already there. On one of the upper rows, Erica was leaning down, propped up on her elbows, talking to Boyd in a lower row. Stiles dropped his books loudly on the desk next to her. She looked up and flashed him a grin, her rolled up parchment on the desk beside her. 

Stiles plopped down in the chair, sighing, and asked, “How long is your essay? I barely managed to get all three feet.” 

“Four and a half feet,” Erica said proudly. Stiles gaped at her. She grinned again. “Surprised? You shouldn’t be. I was awarded full scholarship to Fettes.”

Boyd raised an eyebrow, “Wow.”

“How long is your’s, Boyd?” Stiles asked.

“Two feet eleven. I just couldn’t find anything else,” he said, shaking his head. “The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards just really isn’t that interesting. I just hope Binns doesn’t fail me. I barely passed last year.”

Erica reached over and patted his hand, “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let you fail.”

The three of them looked up just in time to see Professor Binns glide through the board- the most interesting part of the entire lecture- and ask for their essays to be deposited on his desk, and start lecturing on the International Warlock Convention of 1289. 

\---

Later that day, they were assigned loads of homework in Charms, and it kept Stiles up nearly half the night, to the point of him dropping too many spiders into his potion the next morning, making it smoke and fizzle. Harris, as usual, hadn’t been pleased. He’d made them stay after and scrub the stains on the desks, making them late to Defense Against the Dark Arts. 

Normally, that time of year, there would be lessons on werewolves- but in light of the Hale situation, Headmaster Davis and Professor Argent thought it prudent to schedule that lesson for a later date, so the class skipped ahead to the lesson on vampires that been scheduled for next month. 

\---

A few weeks later was the match between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, in the last week of November. Everyone was super excited, and the group made their way down to the pitch that chilly morning all decked in Ravenclaw colors- borrowed from various Ravenclaws who were happy to support the cause- even Scott and Isaac, the resident Huffepuffs. No one new from their year- especially not from their friend group- had taken a position on either team, so they were definitely supporting Ravenclaw, even if they won and put them ahead for the House Cup- which they were currently tied with Hufflepuff for. 

The group snuck into Ravenclaw’s Quidditch tower, all disguised in Ravenclaw garb. Allison had borrowed an extra robe from one of the third years in French club, who had also provided Stiles with a hat. Scott had gotten a scarf from a boy in his History of Magic class, who had given it to him with extreme caution, making sure he was definitely not a spy or something. Caitlin, who usually hung out with Emily in the Hufflepuff common room, loaned Isaac a hat. She also offered one to Emily, but she’d refused, and called Isaac- although good naturedly- a traitor. Jackson had, of course, been given his gear from Danny, who also loaned stuff to Erica and Boyd. 

Once they were up there and cheering for Danny, no one really seemed to care what house they were really from. Once Coach Finstock blew his whistle and the two teams rose up into the air, it was game on. Danny flew over to the hoops immediately, hovering around them to block any balls that might get near him. He was pretty good, Stiles saw- he blocked the first three attempted goals- catching the first two, and then knocking the third with his broom- although the third was approached head-on by a giant fourth-year girl, who nearly dove into the goal herself. 

After that, the Hufflepuffs made goals slightly more frequently, but Danny was not to be discouraged. He successfully blocked most of the goals, putting, by the time the Snitch was spotted, Ravenclaw in first. The Hufflepuffs were scowling at them. For most of the game, Matt, the normal photographer, had been focusing on the game- getting shots of Danny, his first save, his first miss, the Hufflepuff Chasers, and how their Keeper was reacting to Danny- but occasionally his lense would skim over the crowd, particularly the Gryffindor stands. He didn’t seem satisfied, though, with what was there, and searched the rest of the stands until he found what he was looking for- in the Ravenclaw tower. 

Towards the end of the game- Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff’s Seekers were head to head, chasing the Snitch up and down the pitch- Matt had turned his camera once again towards the crowd. He seemed confident in the Seekers ability to not catch the Snitch until he focused back on the game. Stiles spotted the camera flashing in their direction once again, but he didn’t bring it up this time. There was something about the guy that gave him the creeps. 

A few minutes later, the Ravenclaw’s Seeker caught the Snitch, making the entire group explode in cheers. The Ravenclaw Captain patted Danny- who looked winded and in awe of having actually played in the game- on the back for a job well done, the group following the herd back to Ravenclaw tower to celebrate with their friends.

\---

By December, the talk of Allison’s dad being sacked or resigning had mostly died down. Of course there was that one or two persistent parent that continued to send scathing letters, but Professor Argent simply crumpled them up and threw them away. He’d assured Allison, and the rest of his worried students, that he wasn’t going anywhere. The talk of their family also faded into the background, as newer news came in the mail daily, and Kate Argent was forgotten behind a string of murders credited to a vampire, which sparked an interest in DADA again. 

Two weeks into December, breakfast started off more interesting than it had in weeks- well, interesting for everyone except for Jackson. The mail came in as usual, dropping the Daily Prophet into his lap (which he’d taken to scanning quickly, in case there was any news on the Hales, or Kate even. There hadn’t been any.) and a letter from his dad. They wrote often, so he pushed it off to the side until he finished with the paper. Allison got a letter from her mother, which she opened immediately. However, moments later, a hushed silence fell on the Slytherin table, causing the scraping of benches and rustling of robes as people turned to see the source of the silence. Everyone was staring at Jackson, who looked embarrassed, and a little bit angry, his mouth in a thin line. Stiles craned around to try to see what was in front of him, when he saw a flash of steam and a bit of red. _He got a Howler!_ However, this howler wasn’t nearly as pleasant as the one Stiles had heard last February.

Another hushed moment passed, when one of his friends from Slytherin nudged his shoulder, and he lifted it gingerly, opening it with a grimace. The howler exploded with a woman’s voice, screaming about how he wasn’t doing well in one of his classes, and then berated him for not telling them he didn’t make the Slytherin team for _weeks_! His father was a famous Quidditch player, and they might not have expected perfection, they certainly wanted to be _informed_ about it!

 The howler dropped onto the table, caught in flames, and then faded to ashes. A few moments of Jackson staring at his plate, humiliated and face bright red, the conversation was raised again, and everyone turned back to their places at the table.

“Wow,” Allison said, “that was rather harsh, wasn’t it?”

“Well it _was_ Jackson,” Stiles said. “He deserves it.” 

“Does he really?” Allison said, “My mother would never send me a Howler, no matter how bad I was doing in anything.”

“He does act better than everyone else all of the time, maybe it’ll finally put him in his place,” Boyd mumbled, and Allison sighed, turning back to her mother’s letter and her porridge. 

\---

The next morning, the Heads of Houses went around the common rooms asking who wanted to stay over the winter break. According to Erica, who always stayed, since it was a very long drive from Scotland to pick her up, Jackson was the first to sign the list. She guessed he didn’t want to face his parents after that Howler.

When Argent came around looking for names in Gryffindor, Stiles signed his name. In his letter, Stiles’ dad had explained that he was really busy with a case, it would really consume him over the break, and they would hardly get to spend any time together, so if he wanted, Stiles could stay over the holiday at Hogwarts with his friends. Stiles figured leaving his dad alone for the winter holiday would be fine: he managed to sustain himself for most of the year, and if he really needed anything, Mrs. McCall was always available, and only an hour away.

Scott, being the loyal best friend, volunteered to stay over Christmas with him (apologising profusely to his mom) to keep him company. Allison’s mother also suggested she stay over the holiday, if only to get the memory of her last holiday at home- with Kate- out of her mind. Seeing Stiles and Boyd’s name both on the list, she decided to sign it as well, her father going home for the break, so she would truly be away from home for the first time. 

Isaac also stayed behind regularly, spending the holiday with Erica and Boyd, although he wouldn’t tell Scott why, when the Hufflepuff asked. That meant the only two members of the group who weren’t confirmed to be staying behind were the two Ravenclaws. Allison and Erica followed the two of them around that entire saturday, saying, "We're all staying, you guys have to too!" until the two of them finally gave in and agreed to sign the sheet. 

\---

However, despite making arrangements to stay over the winter holiday, there were still several days of classes left. 

In Potions, they worked on the Swelling Solution, twenty cauldrons working frantically against time to crush pufferfish eyes and nettles, stir and heat the cauldron in the proper ways. Remarkably, Scott and Stiles’ potion turned out fine. It wasn’t perfect, but it was probably the best they’d ever done, and next to them, Allison and Isaac’s potion may have been a bit runny, but did it’s job properly, and Harris drastically reduced his sighing during the lesson. Stiles was wondering how he would react towards the Ravenclaws, or students he actually liked, but he didn’t wanna stick around long enough to actually find out. Luckily, nothing exploded, or else they would have all had ears large enough to hear people from Mars, or club-like arms.

In Charms they were learning about harmless spells such as the tickling spell, and Kettlewig went ahead and showed them the shoveling spell, since snow had fallen in a blanket overnight and the school was covered in the stuff, and some pathways were still covered. 

With that, the final days of the term came to a close. The school had slowly gained decorations over the last week, Christmas trees were being pulled in by Deaton and Kettlewig’s charms, snow fell softly, and the Gryffindor common room had roaring fires. The group had taken to spending time in Gryffindor tower rather than their own commons rooms, since, as Erica had complained about, everywhere else was just so _drafty_. 

Once the holidays had started, and everyone else but the group and a few other people they occasionally saw in their common rooms or in halls boarded up on the Hogwarts Express and shipped out, they mostly had free reign of the castle. Most of the teachers had also gone home- including Harris, which Scott and Stiles were incredibly grateful for, and Allison’s dad, who needed to make certain arrangements about Kate that his wife couldn’t do.

Allison was trying to teach Scott wizard chess, but he was terrible at it, which made the set take command of itself and play against Allison’s set without Scott’s help, which made her giggle. The afternoon before the lake froze over, Boyd, Scott, and Stiles traipsed down to visit the giant squid. They all carried with them cream puffs, which they fed him, and were appropriately thanked- or appropriate to the squid, apparently, as they just got soaked and waddled back to the castle in frozen stiff robes. 

\--- 

Stiles woke on Christmas morning with a small pile of presents from his dad at the foot of his bed, and throughout the morning he and his friends exchanged more gifts as he and Scott lounged in front of the Gryffindor fires and ate some of the chocolate oranges Scott’s mother sent. Both of them had also gotten gifts from Deaton- Stiles a carved wolf, and Scott a carved fire crab. Allison and Lydia had given them a lumpy knitted thing- Lydia’s were supposed to be gloves, and Allison’s scarves, she’d explained, “We tried our hand at knitting,” she’d said, embarrassed, “we obviously aren’t very good. I dropped more stitches than I can count, and I think your gloves have an extra finger, Stiles,” she pointed. 

He shook his head, “I love it. It’s very useful in case I like, accidentally grow another finger in a transfiguration accident or something.” Allison smiled at that.

That night, the Christmas feast was just as wonderful as he’d heard. Twelve Christmas trees had been set up in the Great Hall for days, but it was as if they gleamed especially bright for Christmas- some were draped in garlands of holly like the walls, others carried hundreds of burning candles like what hung, lit, over the expanse of the hall, and others carried real frozen, gleaming icicles. There were only a few teachers at the High Table, including the Headmaster, Madam Morrell and her brother Deaton, both having decided that, being the only family they had, they best spend it together at the only home they had. Both professors Grinspun and Vanity- whose faint Scottish accent was leaking out the more she drank- had also stayed behind, and were telling stories to Coach Finstock. 

Since so few people were staying they’d abandoned house tables, and everyone joined up at the Gryffindor table in the middle. There were only about fifteen students who had stayed behind- all nine of the group, third year twins Mitch and Anna Talbot, a Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff respectively, and 5th year Slytherin Margaret Henny, who Danny and Isaac knew from Rat Race Club. Two or three people Stiles didn’t know also stayed behind, along with Matt, enjoying the Christmas feast at the other side of the table. 

The feast itself was spectacular, unlike anything he’d ever had at home. The table was laden with roast turkey, potatoes of all varieties, peas and gravy and cranberries, all manners of Christmas foods magnified tenfold. And on the table, in addition to the food, were Christmas crackers- of both the Wizarding variety (Cribbages Wizarding Crackers, of course) and a few muggle ones to delight the wizards and witches who had grown up with magic ones all their life. Allison and Margaret were much more delighted with those than the ones Scott and Stiles were interested in, despite Stiles’ having grown up with both.

After the feast was finished, and they were awaiting desert, everyone grabbed the crackers. Scott and Stiles pulled apart a Wizard Cracker, which exploded with the sound of a canon and engulfed them in blue smoke, delighting Scott.

In front of them, Allison and Lydia pulled theirs apart- Allison got a purple hat in her muggle cracker, and her prize was a tiny vanity mirror that had a stand. She peered down at it, and after a moment, said, “You mean it really doesn’t do anything- tell you look good, or insult you, or even turn your reflection’s hair blue?” Stiles shook his head, his own green paper crown lopsided on his head. (He’d originally gotten a wizarding cracker, but Scott had been handed a muggle one and was disappointed, because his mom always had normal ones, so Stiles traded with him, passing over his fireman’s hat since _his_ mom usually got wizard ones.)

Lydia hadn’t bothered with the muggle ones like her best friend had, and grabbed a silver Wizard cracker, which exploded blue and came with a flower crown with light pink petals, and a bottle of blow-your-own-everlasting-bubbles, which she blew and let float around her head. 

Next to her, Danny and Jackson were having an excellent time, laughing over the stupid jokes in crackers that had already been opened. On Danny’s head was a blue wizard cap covered in stars, and Stiles had seen bats come from the cracker earlier. Jackson tucked his hat away, but he wasn’t in bad spirits, his little toy soldier was marching around the table and giving orders to anyone who would listen.

On Scott’s other side, Isaac and Erica were pulling their crackers- Isaac’s exploded revealing a real crown, which Erica had placed atop his curly hair and ruddy cheeks, and he helped open hers. Erica appeared from the smoke wearing a classic black witches hat, and clutching several live, white mice, which she grinned at, and said, “Finally something useful!” putting them in her pocket. Stiles figured she was going to feed them to Seline as her Christmas treat. Boyd was chuckling to himself over his own joke, a Russian fur cap on his head.

In the middle of opening crackers, desserts were served, and one of the main dishes was the traditional flaming Christmas pudding along with a couple other things like chocolate cakes and candy canes. Stiles had never liked the pudding very much, but he had a piece out of tradition  
 anyway. Isaac cracked a tooth on a sickle in his slice, but a smiling Madam Morrell fixed it right up. 

As they dined on dessert, and opened the remaining Wizard crackers, having what Stiles suspected was a little stronger than what the students were drinking, Vanity, pink cheeked and grinning, kissed Grinspun on the cheek under the mistletoe that had bloomed overhead (it had bloomed over Lydia and Jackson’s head during dinner, and she’d kissed him on the cheek too,) which made Grinspun giggle before helping herself to another glass.

\---

A few days after Christmas, the group once again lounging in front of the Gryffindor fires, Danny and Isaac practicing racing Jackson the Rat against one of the ones they’d captured roaming the halls this morning- on the “borrowed” rat race track, no one would miss it right now- Erica and Boyd playing gobstones. Allison was reading a book near the window, when she glanced out, and said, “Hey, they’re having a snowball fight down there!” someone said, running to a window. Stiles reached the icy window, wiping off some of the frost with his sleeve, and peering out below. 

Professors Grinspun and Vanity were hiding behind a snow fort, hastily building snowballs, as the twins Anna and Mitch giggled and pelted the fort with their own snowballs. “Lets go join them!” Erica said, rushing back, taking Boyd’s hand to drag him after her, and grabbing her scarf off the back of the couch, gobstones forgotten. Scott and Stiles dashed after her, with a laughing Allison behind, the rest of the group following, leaving the rats in the race pens. 

When they got downstairs into the courtyard, Scott yelled from the sidelines, “Can we join you?” 

Grinspun, who’s face was wrapped in a large red scarf, waved them over, and Vanity, who had similar red mittens said, “Pick a side!” her words muffled from her large woolen robes, their cheeks pink and rosy. 

Allison and Lydia, who didn’t like Grinspun’s class, joined the twins, enjoying their chance at pelting their least favorite class’ teacher with snowballs. On the other hand, Stiles dragged Scott over to the teacher’s side, where they were followed by Issac and Danny. Jackson, Erica, and Boyd had already joined the twins, and were crafting snowballs behind their expanding walls, wands forgotten. 

However, as Isaac and Scott were working on fortifying the fort’s walls, Vanity and Grinspun were piling up the snowballs. Vanity was hunched over the pile with a wicked gleam in her eye, and turned to Scott and Danny who were ready to help. “Wanna see something cool?” she asked, out of breath. They both nodded eagerly. She pulled out her wand, and tapped the pile of snowballs, mumbling an incantation, and then tucked her wand back away, standing up with one of the balls in her hand and pelting it at one of the students who had stuck their head up. When the snowball hit her, it exploded in a flash of colorful snow, whereas it had been white only moments before. Vanity dropped back down grinning.

One of the kids on the other side let out a, “No _fair_.”

Danny grinned and grabbed a few of the enchanted snowballs, followed by the rest of the students on the teachers’ side, and they all started a full out war. Stiles noticed, as they worked on more snowballs, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, the two teachers seemed a lot younger than they normally did in the classroom. 

\---

Just before the term started up again, the day before the Hogwarts Express was due to arrive back at school, Allison, Scott, and Stiles were holed up in the library, getting a jump on classes. According to Allison, her dad was going to start working harder on getting them ready for exams, and they were finally going to do that segment on werewolves. Vanity had also let it slip they were finally moving on to the larger animals and were going to be turning rabbits into slippers, which worried them- they’d just managed to turn beatles into buttons! 

As they poured over the books, Stiles thought he saw a flash of light in his peripheral vision, and whirled around, but there wasn’t anything there. He frowned, “Did you guys see that?” 

“See what?” the two of them asked in unison, and then smiled at each other. 

Stiles rolled his eyes, and said, “Nevermind, it’s probably nothing.”

\---

The next few weeks weren’t quite as bad as they thought they were going to be. They did have a bit of homework, but that was to be expected now that the term was back in full force. Danny was back at Quidditch practice three times a week, and occasionally they would go up to watch but more often than not they were shooed away by the captain, thinking they were spies. 

In Potions, they’d begun working on Hair Raising Potions, which they’d never managed to make the right shade of green. 

In History of Magic, someone had left their fifth year book behind in Stiles usual desk. Rather than listening to the lecture- as no one ever did- Stiles flipped through it. Fifth year contained more of the recent history, such as the Second Wizarding War, details on Voldemort and his life, Harry Potter and his exploits. Of course, there was the stuff like, the Giant wars, but that wasn’t nearly as interesting as the stuff that happened at the school ten or twenty years ago. One page in particular made him stop- there was a large illustration of a basilisk, and the heading was ‘The Chamber of Secrets.’ Stiles stopped there, and started reading.

The next morning, Stiles was telling Scott about the Chamber. Apparently it had been opened twice- once by Voldemort, and then sorta by Voldemort again, using Ginny Potter, back when she was just a first year, way before she married Harry Potter and began flying with the Holyhead Harpies. As they headed towards Defense Against the Dark Arts, Stiles hit Scott’s chest, and said, “We should try to find it. Maybe I can speak parseltongue, I had a boa once, we always felt connected.”

Scott rolled his eyes, and said, “No, Stiles.”

“C’mon! We can do it in between Defence Against the Dark Arts and Herbology!” Stiles yelled after Scott.

“No, Stiles,” Scott called behind him, shaking his head, but he was grinning.

\---

A week before they actually learned the color-changing charm, which was highly anticipated by nearly everyone- there was a certain thrill to actually changing something’s color- Erica plopped down beside Danny in study hall, saying, "Hey Danny, let me borrow your rat.” 

He glanced up at her from his book, giving her the side-eye and asked, "Why?" For once, he was grateful he didn’t have Jackson with him. However, the other, _human_ Jackson, was sitting right across from him, and sighed when Erica came over. She may have been in his house, but he didn’t have to _like_ her.

She smiled innocently, and said, "One of the boys has a cousin who told him this spell to turn a rat yellow." 

"Go borrow his rat," Danny said, turning the page on the History book.

"I can't! Seline keeps eating them. They won't let me anymore!" She whined. She perked up, as she saw Isaac walking by- carrying Danny’s rat. It was Wednesday, and Isaac had just gone to get him for Rat Race Club, since they’d be leaving from Study Hall. “Isaac! Just the man I wanted to see!” she purred. He stopped a few feet away from the, and looked like a deer in the headlights. “Gimmie Jackson.” Isaac looked down, still frozen, and then back at her. He handed it over. “Excellent,” she grinned. 

Danny shut his book with a loud thump, spinning around, and sighed, "Okay, let's hear it- but if he dies you're buying me another one." She pulled out her wand- a blackthorn, best suited to warriors- and tapped the rat.

" _Sunshine, daisies,_

_butter mellow,_

_turn this stupid,_

_fat rat yellow._ "

They stared at Jackson the Rat for a few moments, before Erica frowned and looked at her wand, hitting it on the table a few times, "It didn't work!"

Danny said, "Looks like he gave you a faulty spell," picking up his rat, getting up to go to his club. He paused, "and stay away from my rat."

\---

Scott basically just let Stiles do whatever he wanted with Todd. He rarely used him anyway, and they had different Transfiguration and Charms classes, so it was never like they needed him at the same time, and Stiles was his best friend, and all, (and he totally wasn’t trying to get rid of him or anything, mum,) so of course he’d let him anytime he wanted. Which was really all the time. They were like brothers, anyway, and they basically shared Stiles owl, Scott used it to send letters to his mom, and Striggy showed up carrying stuff from his mom just as often as it did for Stiles’ dad.

But Todd would never do what Stiles wanted it to anyway, so in the middle of Charms, as they were supposed to be turning their rat, or toad, or borrowed mouse, a different color, Stiles was yelling, "Come on, come on! Turn purple! Just this once you useless thing!" and groaned when it just croaked at him. He pointed his wand, and said, “ _Colovaria_!” but there was no familiar red light like he was seeing all around him. Allison’s borrowed mouse was looking a pretty shade of gold next to him, and Jackson the rat had already been so many colors that Stiles’ head was spinning. Sometimes he really hated magic. No- sometimes he really hated _Todd_. Actually, make that most of the time.

\---

A few weeks later, in the middle of March, after February and Valentines day, and the third match with a Ravenclaw win passed in a blur, Stiles and Scott snuck out in the middle of the night. It was something they’d done a couple of times- well, not this thing in particular, they’d never done _this_ before, but sneaking out- and they’d managed to refrain from getting caught. No one should be out anyway. No one had classes on the Astronomy tower on Tuesday nights, so the tower should be clear. 

They snuck across the hallways, occasionally lighting the way or the map just to make sure they were going in the right direction and that no one was coming, and after nearly twenty minutes of stealth-mode Stiles and Scott, they found their way to the base of the Astronomy tower stair. Scott grabbed Stiles’ arm, “Shh! I think I hear someone!” 

They ducked behind a tapestry depicting a man fighting a giant snail, and waited a few minutes until they were sure no one was coming. They climbed up to the top of the tower, and looked out around the grounds, and over the forbidden forest. It was nearly midnight. The two of them perched themselves out over the side of the wall to wait, and sat down. 

Around two in the morning, Stiles slipped off where he was resting his head and jolted himself awake. So far, the time Scott thought he heard someone and that stray pixie had been the most exciting thing all night. Scott shivered in the cool March air, “Do you think we’ll see any? There have been rumors about them here for years.”

“I have no idea,” Stiles said, yawning. They’d come out looking to spot werewolves- which is why they needed to wait for a night on which the Astronomy tower would be empty on a full moon- because apparently they lived in the forbidden forest. So far it had been a disappointing night.

Five hours later, shortly before seven in the morning, they were startled awake when the Astronomy teacher, Professor Grinspun, climbed the tower and dropped her things in surprise at seeing them there. Stiles face was smushed into the floor, and Scott had fallen asleep against the wall. They jumped up in surprise. “What on earth are you doing up here?” she said with a look of concern on her face.

“We, um,” Scott started, but it would help if he didn’t look so guilty, “got lost?”

She sighed and shook her head, kneeling down to pick up her things, “You boys better get down to breakfast.”

Stiles stopped, “You aren’t going to give us detention?” 

She looked up and brushed her hair out of her face, smiling, “Now why would I do that?”

\---

Two more Quidditch matches followed suit, resulting in two consecutive wins for Hufflepuff- putting Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tied for the Quidditch Cup, and the fans were abuzz- if Ravenclaw lost it’s final match, then Hufflepuff would win for the first time in years. It was rather exciting. 

Over the Easter Holidays and just after Stiles’ thirteenth birthday, the second years were given something new to talk about- this was the year they would choose their subjects they would take next year and for the two years following, if not longer than that. Allison was getting advice from both her parents, as were Jackson and Danny and just about any other student who’d been born to wizarding families. Stiles’ dad, on the other hand, was totally clueless on any magical subject, and told him to take anything he wanted as long as it was useful.

He ended up signing up for Ancient Runes (with Lydia, but that’s not the reason he took it, it just looked interesting,) and Care of Magical Creatures, both with Scott.

Erica and Danny ended up choosing the same classes- Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes with Scott and Stiles, although the first subject was basically all math and how it related to magic- neither he nor Scott liked the idea of math and magic.

Allison signed up for Ancient Runes with them as well, but instead of Arithmancy or Care of Magical Creatures- both of which Isaac had signed up for- she took Muggle Studies, because she was from a totally pure-blood family, and had muggle-born friends, and was interested in what their life was like outside of Hogwarts. 

Lydia was asked to step into the office of Deputy Headmaster Argent after signing up for her classes, and came out smiling- she’d been talking about signing up for Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Muggle studies, but Muggle Studies and Arithmancy were at the same time, so she must have been called into Argent’s office to decide which she wanted to take, and was satisfied with her choice. 

And Stiles didn’t _care_ what Jackson took. 

But Boyd had only chosen one class so far, and was staring at the page with a focused expression when Scott and Stiles passed him. He was sitting outside in the warm early summer air, just outside the lake, as the giant squid splashed a few feet away. He’d joined Arithmancy because Erica was in it, but he didn’t know what he wanted for his last class. Stiles was reading over his shoulder, when Scott said, “Hey, you like the giant squid, do you want to join Care of Magical Creatures with us?” 

He looked down at the paper, and then shrugged, “Why not?”

\---

Summer had started, there was no doubt about it. Flowers were blooming in the greenhouses, the giant squid was up and playing in the blue lake, and heat was creeping into Hogwarts. In Herbology, where the cabbage-sized flowers had sprouted, they were pruning Abyssinian Shrivelfigs. A few minutes into the lesson, which was rather dreary, Stiles was sent to the infirmary for trying to eat part of the plant- “They said it was edible!”

Madam Morrell kept him overnight, and said he was lucky he didn’t have anymore classes that day to miss. He didn’t miss the disapproving looks she was sending him, he got the feeling she wasn’t very happy about his stupidity. But Professor Dippet _had_ said they were edibleâ€¦ even though when he found Stiles stuffing the trimmings in his mouth he’d nearly had a heart attack. Scott came to visit in the morning.

\---

The following week he was sent back to the infirmary with hysteria after he drank an Alihotsy Draught in Potions “just to see what would happen.” Madam Morrell was _so_ displeased with him, he wasn’t sure he would be allowed to leave the infirmary, like, ever. But he was pretty sure, as he was being carted away, that he actually saw hope on Harris’ face, hope that he might actually get expelled, or at least removed from his class for the rest of the year. No luck, Harris, Stiles thought. He’d just gotten a detention, and was forced to spend the following Saturday polishing the trophies in the trophy room- at least he got to see the awards of Hogwart’s finest- Harry Potter, young Voldemort, and a bunch of people who invented things in their mid-forties.

Scott also visited him in the infirmary, to see how the potion felt and tasted. (He might have had a little to do with trying it.) He was shortly kicked out by a glaring Madam Morrell.

\---

Stiles had missed the final Quidditch match because of his “little stunt in Potions” that earned him that detention, but he was told by a bunch of cheering Hufflepuffs that the Hufflepuffs had won the Inter-House Quidditch cup. Coach Finstock was absolutely beaming with pride, and ran around with the Quidditch Cup in his arms and tears in his eyes for at least a week, and Kettlewig was so delighted at this sudden turn of events, she didn’t even ask for it back yet.

However, with the final week in May came the announcements of final exams, starting June first.

The final meeting of the French Club took place that week, as they were stopping in order to not distract everyone from studying for exams. However, with the final meeting came Matt. Matt showed up five minutes into Stiles and Allison quizzing each other on vocabulary words, and asked Madam Morrell if he could take pictures- he assured her he was doing it for all the clubs. She agreed- after all, they were both Slytherins. He ran around for a few minutes taking pictures of people and their lists, and finally, Stiles noticed, taking pictures of Allison. He nudged her, and said, “Hey, Allison, I think Matt is taking pictures of you. Just you.”

Placing her list down on the table, she said “He’s probably just taking them of the club.” When Stiles looked up, Matt had moved on to taking them of Morrell, and some other students she was helping.

\---

Ugh. Exams. Stiles groaned. He and Scott studied pretty much everywhere. They climbed the stands of the Quidditch pitch, despite no practice, they lay in the grass outside Deaton’s hut, listening to the fire crabs spit and the other bizarre animals rattle their cages, they sat with Boyd and Erica under the trees next to the lake, although they quit after the third time they were soaked by the squid. More than once they would go to the library with Allison and Lydia, but no matter where they went, they didn’t like studying anymore.

Exams turned out to be terrible, but Stiles didn’t think he would totally fail. After all, he did remember all the correct things about Sardinian Sorcerers for History of Magic, he just _barely_ managed to turn Todd into a goblet for Transfiguration, and thanks to much lunar cycle watching to find a good day to go werewolf hunting, he passed the Astronomy exam with flying colors. Scott came out grumbling, but the only thing he really forgot was how to complete a swelling solution, but it only turned out slightly runny.

The end-of-term feast was just as grand as it had been last year. Hogwarts famous dishes were all upon the tables, and Ravenclaw’s colors decked the hall, showing off their victory for the House Cup. When the last bit of students trickled into the hall, Davis stood up and cleared his throat. “Another year, another victory for Ravenclaw,” he said with a smile, nodding towards Ravenclaw, which exploded with cheers. “However, there was a spectacular win for Hufflepuff with the Quidditch Cup,” Hufflepuff cheered, almost rivaling Ravenclaw’s. Stiles cheered with him, Scott catching his eye as he and Emily and Isaac all howled. 

\---

Exam grades came in first thing in the morning. Stiles had passed with decent marks- he certainly wasn’t going to tell his dad what he made in Potions- but he was actually fairly good with Defense Against the Dark Arts. He thought that maybe, one day, he could possibly be an Auror. They were kind of like magical policemen, like his dad. Scott had also, thankfully, passed. He didn’t know what he would have done without the Robin to his Batman (“Hey, I thought you were Robin!”)

Unfortunately, once again, Jackson passed as well. He gloated for hours, until someone reminded him of the howler, and then he just kind of smirked at everyone, flaunting his higher potions grade. 

That afternoon they all climbed onto the Hogwarts Express, lugging their heavy baggage onto their compartment, and watched as muggle villages sped by. Soon enough it was dusk and they were all climbing off the train. “Don’t forget to ask your parents!” Allison called as she tugged her trunk towards her mother. “You can send an owl or call, we have a phone now!” she said.

“We won’t!” Scott called, as he and Scott found their parents.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Lydia said.

“I’ll see,” Jackson said, mumbling, as he found his mother waiting for him a bit farther down on the platform He'd gotten a troubling letter right before they left for the express, but wouldn't tell anyone what it said, not even Danny. Everyone else just waved, or mouthed, ‘Okay!’ at her.

“What was that about, Scott?” Melissa McCall asked, after Scott finished squeezing her in a hug.

“Allison invited us to spend a week over at her house this summer,” Stiles answered for him. 

“Will her parents be there?” Melissa asked.

Scott frowned, “Of course. Her dad is the Deputy Headmaster!” 

Melissa raised an eyebrow, “That’s the first I’m hearing of that,” she said. “But I don’t have a problem with it. Do you?”

DI Stilinski shook his head, “Not at all. It might be nice to get them out of our hair for a little while, huh, kiddo,” he said, and laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO this chapter was a bit (10k) shorter than the last. But this, and the next, are a bit of filler chapters- because in Sav's words, "they're too young to be really interesting."
> 
> And judging by this chapter, the next will probably be around the same length. Expect it towards the end of February! 
> 
> \---
> 
> Year Three: claw your way up
> 
> Third year comes with a lot of surprises. Like Scott's crush on Allison (which wasn't so much of a surprise, he'd been following her around since day one,) and Jackson moving to the United States to some place called Beacon Hills, which is really weird. Also Derek's uncle comes back from the dead.


	3. Year Three: Claw your way up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Third year comes with a lot of surprises. Like Scott's crush on Allison (which wasn't so much of a surprise, he'd been following her around since day one,) and Jackson moving to the United States to some place called Beacon Hills, which is really weird. Also Derek's uncle comes back from the dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I said this would be up by the end of February, and here it is! (Only one day late.) Honestly, this chapter and chapter 2 were more of the "filler chapters" were nothing really happens that's truly exciting or a major part of the plot, which is why it took me so long (that, and midterms.) But starting with the next chapter, stuff starts to really happen. Just bear with me here. 
> 
>  
> 
> ALSO tiny spoiler right here: As of episodes 3.18/.19 Malia is not related to anyone, Papa McCall is not back, and noBODY IS DYING. Just so you guys know.

Summer had always been fun- who didn’t love getting a break from school for a couple of weeks?- but the summer before third year really topped them all. On the train ride home, Allison has asked them all if they’d wanted to come to her house for the last week of summer, right before school started up again. Of course she’d gotten her parent’s permission first- Stiles’ dad wouldn’t have let him come otherwise- it was one of those parent things, heightened by the fact that he was a law enforcement officer who’d actually seen some pretty bad stuff. But, of course, Allison’s parents- having dealt with muggles before- called Stiles’ father and they had it all sorted out. Which is what lead to Stiles and Victoria Argent appearing with a loud crack in the living room of Allison’s house in Yorkshire. 

“Stiles!” Allison called, jumping up from the sofa where Lydia was already sitting with her feet tucked under her. Erica was sitting on one of the other couches, a bowl of popcorn in her lap and a grin on her face as she turned to greet him. Beside her was Boyd, a glass of something in his hand. Stiles was still woozy from the apparition- it was like he’d been squeezed through a rubber tube. It wasn’t at all a pleasant feeling, side-along apparition. 

A moment later there was another loud crack and Professor Argent apparated into the room with Scott on his arm. Looking equally dazed, but with a happy grin on his face, he turned to the professor, “Can we do that again?”

“Scott!” Stiles called, and Scott turned to him.

“Hey!” he said, as he moved over to join the two of them.

Allison’s mother turned to Allison, and asked, “Daniel is next, correct?”

Allison nodded and her mother apparated away, before turning to her friends, explaining, “Danny is the last one- Isaac never responded,” she frowned, concerned, “And Jackson is busy with something- he never really said.”

A few minutes later Danny and Victoria reappeared, and the group started out their first couple hours of their week by watching muggle movies Erica brought for the Argent’s new television (which she marveled over for hours). Allison’s mother brought in snacks and tea, and to Stiles’ delight, Every Flavour Beans. By the time night fell, he’d had three different flavours of mushroom, one type of couch lint, and memorably- cat hair. They all spent the night draped out over couches and on cots and in sleeping bags on the floor of the living room as the TV hummed in the background of half of the group’s snoring.

Over the next couple of days they all played a pickup game of Quidditch on old, borrowed, and broken broomsticks, which resulted in more than one person flailing to the earth in the middle of a game, and they watched more muggle movies, finished up on the last bit of homework for the summer, and Allison’s mother spent the week pretending not to see them all doing magic in the living room. On the fourth day at Allison’s, while looking for a wayward broom, Scott was bitten by what looked like an overgrown potato with legs. 

“Ouch!” Scott yelped, holding his finger as the potato-thing scurried underground. Stiles flew down to Scott to see what was the matter, just in time to see it pop back up. He hopped off his broom as everyone else joined them. “What are those things?” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Scott, I should have warned you!” Allison said, “Wizard gardens usually have gnomes! They can bite pretty hard, although it doesn’t actually cause any real damage.”

“Let me see!” Erica said, trying to peer into the gnome hole, but it had disappeared down beneath the earth. 

Danny nodded as Allison explained, “My parents’ garden sometimes gets them too, but its only usually a couple at a time. You look like you have a couple dozen holes over there.”

Victoria and her husband, who had been watching the game out of the kitchen window, hurried out of the house to see what had happened, “Are you hurt, Scott?” Victoria asked, taking his hand. 

Scott shook his head, “Allison said it was just a gnome bite.”

Victoria shook her head, and Professor Argent crossed his arms as she said disgustedly, “We have professional de-gnomers, I should send them an owl-” 

Scott was studying the ground, when he piped up, “Hey, can we do it?” 

She looked at him wearily, “If you really want to-”

The group, most of whom were raised by muggles and really wanted to see what gnomes looked like, all chimed in, “We do!” and Allison said, “Please, mum?” 

Victoria shook her head, but she was smiling, and relented, “Very well. Allison, show them how it’s done.”

Allison smiled, and rolled up her sleeves, “Okay, we might get a little dirty...” and so they spent the day de-gnoming the bushes, and made a competition as to who could throw them farther, the little gnomes screaming “Gerroff me! Gerroff me!” as they were all swung over the fence that marked the edge of the Argent household. Later that afternoon they all came into the house covered in dirt and mud, and all grinning as they sat down for dinner, Chris trying to hide his smile as they traipsed dirt all over the kitchen. 

And then days later, Scott went home and de-gnomed his own garden, his mom shaking her head mumbling about “gnomes” and “wizards” and let him.

\---

Cutting it close, Scott and Stiles met up in Diagon Alley to get school supplies the day after returning from Allison’s, and the day before the term started. They not only had to get their core class books, but now they had to get supplies and such for their elective classes- both boys taking Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures. They’d already gone by the Apothecary to replenish their potions supplies (after several incidents with Lacewing Flies, they were running rather low, and they needed general ingredients for new potions this year, like lovage and scurvy grass) and were carrying Scott’s new robes, after he’d outgrown the ones from last year. As they hurried along in the bustling, last-minute crowd, Stiles looked over the remaining items on his supply list. 

_Ancient Runes Made Easy,_ by Laurenzoo

_Rune Dictionary_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 3),_ by Miranda Goshawk

_Intermediate Transfiguration,_ by Emeric Switch

_The Monster Book of Monsters,_ ****by Edwardus Lima

“Okay, so we should be able to get all of these in Flourish and Blotts,” Stiles said, as they turned down an alleyway in direction of the shop. Their parents had gone for ice cream, and had basically released them to do their own shopping, giving them each a pouch of galleons, sickles and knuts. Once they reached the store, they were met with the sight of a large iron cage in the window, which held about a hundred copies of a furry book, pages flying everywhere as the books got into nasty fights. Scott said, “I wonder what kind of crazy person would want a book like that?” 

The two of them entered the crowded shop, and were nearly toppled over by a pile of books, but they managed to move out of the way and time and find the front counter. 

“Hogwarts? Have you come for your new books?” an assistant asked, smiling halfheartedly, his hair slightly tousled and his clothes wrinkled, and he looked rather like he’d spent the day running around the entire shop, and his arms were bandaged rather heavily. 

“So we need...” Scott listed off the books they needed, but forgot the last one on the list, the monster book. 

“And a Monster Book!” Stiles added. The assistant suddenly paled, but nodded, looking almost frightened. 

“I’ll be right back with those first four- you each need a copy?” he said, and they nodded, and then hesitated, “And you both need a copy of The Monster Book of Monsters?” They nodded again. He looked like he was going to cry. 

As the assistant disappeared behind large stacks of books, Scott asked, “Have you heard anything from Isaac? I haven’t heard from him all summer.”

Stiles shook his head, “No, but he was like this last summer too.”

“I know but he didn’t come to Allison’s, he didn’t even reply!”

“Maybe he just doesn’t like Allison?” Scott looked appalled. Stiles held up his hands, “Kidding, kidding!” Scott hit him with a paper book left on the counter, and Stiles yelped as the assistant returned with their books, two copies of each balanced in his arms. 

He set them down, and said wearily, “Follow me, gentlemen. Be prepared. I’ve already been bitten.” 

The two of them exchanged looks, “Oh no,” Stiles said.

The assistant lead the way to the front of the shop where the cage was. As they got closer, the two of them could read _The Monster Book of Monsters_ on the green cover in gold. The books were all scuttling around the cage on their sides, snapping at each other and anyone who came close. The assistant pulled on a pair of large gloves and picked up walking stick, and braced himself as he reached for the cage door. The books swarmed, and the two of them couldn’t tear their eyes away from the horror. 

Nearly as quickly as he’d stuck his hands in the cage, the assistant pulled them out and tossed one of the books backwards at them. Scott caught it without thinking, but then he looked down and the thing was snapping at him. “Ahhhh!” Scott yelled and tossed it to Stiles, who started yelling with him.

“Give me your shirt!” Stiles yelled, “We have to restrain it!”

“Why my shirt?” Scott protested, as Stiles held the book at arm’s length.  
  
“Because I’m holding the book!” he said, and Scott relented, pulling off his outer shirt, and Stiles shoved the book into it, just in time to catch the second one being thrown at him, throwing it into the shirt too, as the assistant slammed the door shut. He proceeded to check them out swiftly, and the two of them left the shop with the wrapped books sandwiched between two other books.

As they were exiting the shop, they nearly ran into Allison and Lydia. Lydia, who was just going to go ahead to the train with Allison, decided to stay at her best friend’s house, and they said they would probably head down to Diagon Alley around the same time as Scott and Stiles. “Hey!” Scott said cheerfully, much too soon after their near-death experience.

The two girls said hello, and they all chatted for a moment before they decided they should probably go in because they were blocking the door. As they waved goodbye, Stiles was sure he saw a flash of light, but when he looked around all he saw was the sun.

\---

Stiles was up bright and early the next morning, and reading his letter over breakfast, after skimming the Daily Prophet, which he was still subscribed to. He’d gotten his annual school supply list letter from Hogwarts while he’d been away and he’d just opened it to get out his list yesterday, without actually reading what was in it. He pulled out the other two pieces of paper from the torn open envelope and picked up the note from the Deputy Headmaster first, reading it quickly. 

_Dear Mr. Stilinski,_

_Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King’s Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o’clock._

_Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Chris Argent_

_Deputy Headmaster_

Stiles had nearly forgotten about the Hogsmeade trips over the summer, although he’d been eager to go at the end of the previous year, since he’d never seen an entirely wizarding village before. Stiles picked up the Hogsmeade Permission form and looked down at it, eyes skimming over it before passing it to his dad. “Hey Dad, I need you to sign this,” he said, “It’s the permission slip to go to Hogsmeade,” and Stilinski took it, signing without even really looking, with a normal pen that had been on the table from the previous night’s paperwork.

_PERMISSION for VISIT to HOGSMEADE for_

_Stiles Stilinski_

_This document hereby serves to state the aforementioned Third-year student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade at such a time that the school arranges, and with the signature of the undersigned parent or guardian._

_The student shall abide by all such rules & regulations relevant to such expeditions and set by the school as per article 528/Z of the 1714 Edict._

\---

Having to arrive early for work that morning, Stiles’ dad had said his goodbyes about an hour earlier and left- apologizing for not being able to see him off. Stiles spent the next hour waiting in their apartment for Scott and his mom to pick him up and drive them to King’s Cross. Reading the paper for the fourth time that morning, Stiles hung upside down off the couch, as Striggy hooted unhappily from his cage. “I know, I know, I’m bored too,” Stiles said, turning right side up. His stuff had been by the door for awhile now, but if they were going to take any longer he would have time to open up his trunk and get out a treat for himâ€¦ 

As he was thinking, the doorbell rang, and a muffled, “Stiles!” came from the other side. He snatched up Striggy’s cage and sprinted to the door, grabbing his trunk as he threw open the door. Scott grinned brightly, in his jumper and jeans, and said, “My mom is waiting with the car downstairs. Lets go!"

The two of them too the elevator down to the lobby, and pulled Stiles’ trunk outside up to Melissa’s waiting car. She looked out the window and smiled at him, “Just put it in the trunk with Scott’s,” she said to him. 

Stiles nodded, “Thanks for picking me up Mrs. McCall.”

They climbed into the car after stuffing Stiles’ trunk in with Scott’s, and listened to Melissa chat the entire time it took them to get to the station, where she parked and followed them inside. They made their way to the platform, having already been there several times, and ran through the gateway. 

They were the first to arrive, as usual- Melissa didn’t want Scott to miss the train, this thing was possibly the best thing that had ever happened to them- so they pulled their trunks into the compartment and started up the pile as their friends started to arrive. Allison and Lydia arrived next, the two of them struggling with their bags until a seventh year lifted up the ends for them with a charm. Erica and Boyd arrived next, with Isaac on their heels, being unusually silent. He had a bruise on his left cheek, and when Allison asked about it, he mumbled something about falling down the stairs and made it clear that the subject was to be dropped.

Danny was the last to get on the train, and when he sat down, he stared out the window. Erica looked around, “Where’s Jackson?” 

Danny shrugged, and said, “His parents took that promotion and moved to some place in America called Beacon Hills.” They gaped at him. He hadn’t even told them! And, even though he shrugged it off, Stiles could tell Danny was upset about it- his best friend just moved halfway across the world.

A few moments more of muttered, “Really?”s and “Why didn’t he tell us?” the train whistled and started up. Everyone tried to lean out the window at the same time- which was rather difficult for a bunch of thirteen year olds- and waved goodbye to their parents.

“Be safe, boys!” Melissa called out from the platform, “Don’t talk to any strange wizards! Or- or mermaids! Or vampires! And make sure you write me! Both of you!”

“Mum!” Scott said, appalled, but she just continued waving as Erica snickered. 

Boyd elbowed her, “Don’t act like your mom didn’t just do the same thing.”

\---

Around one, as usual, the sweets trolley came by, and Boyd bought his usual round, including Erica’s order, but everyone else passed. Stiles had some Pepper Imps he’d bought in Diagon Alley, and passed a few of them around, which made the whole compartment fill with smoke- making them open the window to air it out- and Allison accidentally singed the fabric of the curtains when she breathed fire. Having gone to the shop with him, Scott had a few candies of his own, and he was eager to try the massive sherbet balls, which made you levitate a few inches when you sucked them. He gave one to Isaac to cheer him up about the fall, and the two of them floated lazily around the compartment for the rest of the journey. 

When they arrived at Hogwarts, it was raining. They all put on their hats and ducked outside into the rain, running into the carriages quickly to get out of the rain. When Stiles pulled off his cap, Todd was sitting on his head. “Hey buddy, how’d you get up there?” he asked, pulling him down and handing him to Scott. Seline shook herself off onto all of them before curling up to the warmth offered by Erica’s lap as the carriage pulled them towards the school. The carriage rattled as it traveled over potholes and rocks and the four of them in the carriage looked out the tiny windows as rain pelted down. 

As the carriage pulled up to the gates, they braced themselves for the rain, lifting robes over their heads, Stiles stuck his hat back on his head, and they hopped out of the carriage, only getting a little soaked. When they stepped inside, a few upperclassmen were performing drying charms, _Ventus_ , blasting themselves and their friends with a burst of hot air. Stiles was gonna take his chances with being wet, though, since it was technically a jinx. 

Everyone shuffled into the great hall to await the sorting ceremony and the Great Feast. After a few minutes of loud chatter, the newest students were lead into the hall by Allison’s father, who was wearing a dark scarlet robe that matched Gryffindor colors. Stiles was only half paying attention after another year of awful songs from the Sorting Hat and a near-endless stream of first years lined up, until the name, “Boyd, Alicia!” was called by Allison’s father. 

Stiles sat up straighter, and looked towards the front of the hall. She was definitely Boyd’s sister, even though he’d never mentioned her first name before. She looked just like him, and when Stiles looked to him, he was smiling encouragingly at her, as she stepped up towards the stool, one of the first students to be sorted. 

Alicia sat down, and had the hat placed on her head for only a few minutes before it bellowed out, “GRYFFINDOR!” and the Gryffindor table exploded with clapping and cheering as a smiling Alicia stepped down to join her brother’s table. 

“I didn’t know your sister was a witch, Boyd,” Allison said, her eyebrows raised. “Why didn’t she sit with us on the train?”

Boyd nodded, and then shrugged, “She didn’t want to sit with me.”

But she did join them at their normal seats at the table, sitting beside her brother. She smiled at them, and said, “Hi, I’m Alicia.”

Allison smiled back, and said, “I’m Allison, and this is Stiles,” Stiles waved. “I’m sure you’ve already met Erica-” Alicia nodded, “She’s at the Slytherin table, the one all in green. And you’ll probably meet the rest of Boyd’s friends sooner or later. My best friend Lydia is over at the Ravenclaw table,” Allison pointed, and Alicia turned to look, “along with Danny, and Stiles’ best friend is over at Hufflepuff,” Alicia swiveled to the Hufflepuff table, “with Isaac.” 

“It’s really nice to meet you,” Alicia said, and then turned her attention to the last few of her year being sorted.

"I don't know how you turned out so well adjusted, I mean, Boyd talks to the giant squid, and you even go by your first name!" Stiles said. 

She scrunched up her nose, "You guys call him by our last name?" 

"You don't? See! Well adjusted!"

When the stool was carted away, Headmaster Davis stood up and effectively silenced the entire room with one swoop. He was wearing a set of purple robes with stars and a matching pointed hat. He cleared his throat, and said, looking over his students, “And thus begins another year at Hogwarts!” the room broke out in loud clapping, and the headmaster waited another few moments for the clapping to subside before continuing. “There are several announcements I must make before we commence with the feast. First of all, I would like to say a few words: humor, pathos, and intelligence. May your year be filled with them! On a more serious note,” he said, and everyone glanced around. At the head table, all the teachers Stiles knew were looking pleasant. However, one or two seemed to be missing.

“After a rather unfortunate event involving a snargaluff tree, our Herbology teacher, Professor Harry Dippet, has permanently retired to his native Scotland. His replacement, Peter Hale, has spent some time in the dirt himself.” Several teachers snickered, but the teacher who was presumably Peter Hale- _Derek’s uncle_ , Stiles’ mind pointed out- pursed his lips and looked rather sour about it. Most of the students- Stiles included- just looked at them all a little bit confused.

And then the room was whispering, because _didn’t everyone but Derek, Laura, and Cora die in the fire?_ and _wasn’t he dead?_ But he looked perfectly healthy, and then he grinned, and- yep, he was a werewolf. his grin matched Laura’s perfectly. Well Stiles already knew that, but. Anyway, he was supposed to be dead, and if Peter is back, then shouldn’t Cora and Derek and Laura be? But after the initial shock, no one really seemed all that interested in the new Herbology teacher. 

The headmaster sat down after that and the feast commenced. The rest of the feast was spent talking with Alicia- Allison found her especially interesting, since it was rather unusual for two magical children to be muggle born- about magic and Hogwarts in general. When the feast was over, the four of them trudged up to Gryffindor tower, and said the password, “Flaming kiwi,” before splitting ways- Boyd and Stiles going to the boys dorm- now with ‘third years’ on the door- and Allison showing Alicia to the girls.

\---

The next morning, after getting schedules at breakfast, the group started off towards their classes, all chatting about their new classes. “I don’t have any today,” Stiles said, “Care of Magical Creatures doesn’t start until Tuesday.”

Allison nodded, looking down at her own schedule, which varied only slightly from Stiles and Boyd’s. “Muggle Studies is Tuesday for me as well, and Ancient Runes is on Wednesday,” she said, shaking her head, “I saw Lydia’s before we left the Great Hall, she’s taking about a million classes, I don’t know how she’s going to fit them all in.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to take these extra two,” Boyd said, “I don’t even really know what Arithmancy is, I just took it because Erica wanted me to.”

“I think it has to do with telling the future with numbers,” Allison said, “apparently it’s a better accepted form of Divination. Which is why they did away with that other class after Professor Trelawney left.”

“How do you know all this stuff?” Boyd said, staring at her, “I’ve never read half this information in the History of Magic textbooks.”

She smiled, “My dad used to tell me the history of Hogwarts when I was little. He’s been a teacher here since before I was born.”

\---

Of course, their first lesson that morning was with Allison’s father himself. As the seats filled in, Professor Argent came down the middle row and leaned on his desk, waiting for the rest of the students to arrive. Promptly at ten AM, he uncrossed his arms and said, “Can anyone tell me what a boggart is?”

Several students raised their hands- they’d apparently done the summer reading. Unlike Stiles. Professor Argent pointed to one of the Hufflepuffs, “Miss West.”

Emily’s hand went down, “A boggart is a shapeshifter who turns into a wizard’s biggest fear.”

“Very good. Miss Yukimura, can you tell me how to defeat a boggart?”

Kira, who wasn’t paying attention, was poked in the side by Clive. She sat up and said, “Oh- you, um, laugh at it.”

Professor Argent raised an eyebrow, “You laugh at it?”

“I mean- you have to make it into something you can laugh at, by using the _Riddikulus_ spell.”

Argent sat back and smiled, “Good work, girls.” Kira beamed. “This year you’ll see we’re going to have a much more hands-on learning experience. Today we’re having a practical lesson, so if you’ll follow me-” he said, getting up, his black robes swishing out behind him.

As they got up, the sound of chairs scraping against the floor echoed around the room, and Stiles said, “A practical lesson? What are we going to do? He couldn’t possibly have brought a boggart here in the castle.”

Scott shook his head, “I have no idea. I didn’t read.”

“Me either.”

The class followed Argent down several hallways and into a staff room, which was populated by several dozen mismatched chairs, a wardrobe, and an old chest in the corner. As the students stood in one corner of the room, Argent stepped to the other and pulled out an old chest, dragging it to the center of the room, and Allison leaned in over Stiles and Scott’s shoulder, and said, gasping, “I’ve seen that chest before! It was my grandmother’s!” she said in awe, “You don’t think-”

“It could be in there?” Scott finished, but as if an answer, the trunk suddenly rattled, and everyone stepped back in surprise. 

Professor Argent propped one leg on top of it, and said, “Boggarts, like this one here, like closed spaces- under beds, in between floorboards, and occasionally, my mother’s attic,” he said, and the class laughed. “Now, when I open it, it won’t know what shape to take, since there are so many of you, which is why it’s always good to have company when dealing with them. So if you’ll just line up-” they all hurried to get in line, and Stiles was somewhere in the middle, followed by Scott, and then the rest of his friends.

“Ah, Miss West, so kind of you to volunteer first,” Professor Argent said, smiling at her. She looked sheepish, but not terribly afraid. “What frightens you most?”

“Bugs,” she said, shaking her head, “especially fireflies. They just- swarm, and it’s absolutely horrid.”

“Well, Emily, when you see those bugs, imagine each of them is a little firework set to go off. Remember, when you see it, you must picture those fireworks, and say _Riddikulus!_ Repeat after me, class, _Riddikulus!”_ they all repeated after him, and then he looked to Emily. She nodded, but looked uncertain, tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “On the count of three- one, two, three!” he said, and lifted the latch off the trunk, letting it burst open. 

Out came a swarm of fireflies, all heading straight for Emily. She stepped back, but from behind her, Kira pushed her forward. She clumsily stuck her wand out in front of her, and said, “ _Rid- riddikulus!”_ They all started exploding in little bursts of light. She let out a laugh of delight as they continued exploding in little bursts of miniature fireworks, as everyone joined her.

“Kira, forward!” Kira stumbled forward, grinning, but dropped it as the fireworks turned into a coyote. But her lips sealed in determination, and she said, “ _Riddikulus!”_ turning it into a harmless puppy that tripped over it’s own feet. 

And through the line went their biggest fears. Spiders and rats, dementors, and one Greek statue all turned into laughable things. However, once Stiles was near the front, he was rather reluctant to go himself. He really wasn’t entirely sure what his biggest fear was- he was kinda worried about a lot of things, and much less scared of a lot. 

In it’s place there were a pile of books. Nothing seemed to be happening, and when he looked to Allison’s father, he nodded in the direction of the books. Stiles stepped forward, and looked down at them. They were his spell books. There was his Charms one, and his Transfiguration one, complete with the waterlogged pages from where he’d dropped it in a puddle on the way home. And- except, he frowned, he couldn’t read the title. _edtmnIeitaer gasrnniafurTtio_ stared back at him. He frowned, and flipped through the pages and he realized he couldn’t read a thing.

When he stepped back, he said, “I can’t read it.”

Scott stepped forward, “What do you mean? It says _Intermediate Transfiguration_ , right there!”

Allison turned to her father, “Dad, I don’t think it’s working.”

He smiled, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, “Oh, it’s working.”

“I can’t read it-” Stiles stepped back, frowning. Suddenly the boggart transformed into a chalkboard with what looked like a lesson plan on it, but Stiles couldn’t read any of it. He took another step back, and it transformed again and again, words literally floating off the pages, melting, and symbols he didn’t expect to see even in Ancient Runes. “I can’t read it,” he said again, as people were listing off the words in confused voices. He was starting to panic. 

But then Scott grasped his arm, and said, “Stiles!”

And he was jerked out of it. He still couldn’t read the letters, but he pointed at the chalkboard and said, “ _Riddikulus!”_ and moments later, there was a crack, and the chalk turned into two stickfigures. The moving drawings were of a man werewolfing out on another stickfigure, which in turn, wolfed out on the other one as a bigger wolf, chasing the other one away. The room erupted in laughter, and Stiles stepped down. 

Scott was next, the chalkboard turning into Melissa McCall before their eyes. But she was lying on the floor, dead, with her throat ripped open and blood pooling on the ground. Scott paled but his eyes were set, and he said, “ _Riddikulus!” -crack-_ Melissa- sans wounds- sat up and laughed infectiously.

Allison was pushed forward, but that’s when it really took a dark turn. She was laughing, but as soon as it caught sight of her, it turned into a screaming woman, not unlike a banshee, but everyone recognized her- it was Kate Argent. And she was coming for Allison.

Chris nearly stepped forward, but Allison glanced back at Isaac, and said, “ _Riddikulus!” -crack-_ her aunt transformed into a clown.

“Come on, Isaac! We’re nearly there, it’s getting confused!”

Isaac looked terrified, before it even saw him. But when it did, it turned into a middle aged man. Everyone looked at each other, confused, but Isaac’s face was pale. The man starked yelling. “What are you waiting for, dumbass? Get the chains, and get in the damn freezer!” Isaac flinched back, and looked on in horror.

At the back of the room, Scott whispered to Stiles in a horrified voice, “I think that’s his dad.” 

Argent looked nearly like he was going to intervene again, but Isaac eventually sputtered out a “ _Riddikulus!_ ” and his dad was wrapped up in the chains- which turned into pink ribbon- with a bow like a present. He scuttled to the back of the room, and didn’t look at any of them for the rest of the lesson, and mumbled excuses when Scott tried to talk him. 

Boyd was up next, and with a crack, his frozen sister turned into a snowman, and he fell back with his friends. 

\---

Having left the class in either horrible spirits- like Isaac- or in good ones- like Boyd- they were all given homework despite it being the first day, and Stiles rushed to get to Herbology with the Ravenclaws, who didn’t have Defense Against the Dark Arts until Tuesday.

Everyone was excited to get to class, with there being a new teacher and all- their previous teacher was rather plain, and Professor Hale was either going to make the class so much better, or make their lives hell. Lydia was already there when Stiles arrived. She was staring at Peter, who, arms crossed, was leaning on the edge of a dirt plot and surveying the arriving students. When everyone arrived, he sighed and pushed himself off of the box, and said, “My name is Peter Hale, and I’m here to be your new Herbology teacher. A little about myself? Well, while I was a student here, I was a Slytherin, I like long walks on the beach, and the summer before last, a psychopath I went to school with burned down my house with my entire family inside it.” He smiled. 

"Also," Peter said, "If you get wolfsbane even near me, I will bite off your face." Stiles didn't think teachers were allowed to say stuff like that. But he believed him. He was suddenly wishing for his old teacher back.

\---

On Tuesday morning, bright and early, everyone who’d chosen the elective muddled down to Deaton’s gamekeeper hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. While they were excited, they were also a bit worried- what kind of class had books that tried to eat you on a daily basis? But Stiles and Scott trusted Deaton- after all, they spent a lot of time helping him with the creatures first year. Tacked to the door was a note telling them to follow the path around the hut on the edge of the forest to a familiar paddock. Scott and Stiles had just started on the path when they heard a, “Hey, wait up!” and the two of them stopped to find a panting Isaac behind them.

“Hey Isaac,” Scott said, and the three of them continued down the path, until they reached the clearing where Deaton was talking to several other third year students. Until the lesson started, they decided to hang back near the edge of the clearing, as there was a horse-like winged beast in the center. Several minutes later, Boyd showed up with his monster book in hand. 

Deaton cleared his throat, when it became apparent no one else was going to appear, “Has anyone succeeded in opening their books? If not, it would appear this will be our first lesson in the care of magical creatures.”

Stiles looked around- people had taken various measures in keeping their books sealed. One person had covered the sides nearly completely in wax, sealing it shut, several others used a belt, and one girl had tied a rope around it and was tugging it around like a pet. Stiles, on the other hand, had tied an extra Gryffindor tie around it and was holding it by the end of the tie.

Scott had Spellotaped his shut with about three rolls, Isaac crammed his into a tight bag, nearly like a muzzle, but Boyd was holding his regularly under his arm. They stared at him when he raised his hand. “How’d you do it?” Stiles asked, and Boyd frowned.

“You mean you haven’t gotten a look inside yet? None of you?” the three of them shook their heads. He rolled his eyes and demonstrated, “You just have to stroke it’s spine like this- see?”

They all looked at their own books rather uncertainly, but followed his direction as Deaton explained it to the rest of the class. Soon enough all the books were falling open to the delight of the students. 

Standing in front of the beasts, Deaton said, “Today’s lesson will cover hippogriffs...”

\---

Potions on Wednesday was a regular affair with Harris. For most of the lesson he sat at his own desk, brewing a perfect potion as the students’ exploded around him. Well, to be fair, only one potion exploded, and that was because the entirely wrong ingredients were being used, and it wasn’t either Scott or Stiles this time. They were preparing a Shrinking Solution, which involved chopping up daisy roots- which wasn’t too difficult, although it was unlikely they were ever going to be to Harris’ liking- to be inserted after the rat spleen, and the dash of leech juice. 

Harris said, “Now that all the ingredients have been added, the potion should be an acid green. If you haven’t added them all, or your potion is not anywhere near that color, raise your hand.” At least three pairs that Stiles could see raised their hands, while Harris hoisted himself up, “But if you have met those conditions, set your timer for it to stew.”

\---

Later that day Stiles had his first Ancient Runes class up on the sixth floor, room A, with nearly everyone except Isaac and Boyd. It was much harder than Stiles had expected, and was really rather like learning another language. Which, he did. Several, if you counted other wizarding terms, and well, if you looked at it that way, it wasn’t too hard. The first lesson started with Professor Blake explaining how exactly the study of ancient runes was actually useful- although she got rather testy when one Slytherin pointed out the fact it was supposed to be a theoretical subject, wasn’t it?- and then she moved on to the easier runes, starting with numbers. 

\---

With two extra classes, the days passed quickly in a flurry of homework and lessons and the occasional letter from Stiles’ dad at breakfast. If it hadn’t already been his favorite subject, getting more hands-on would have certainly made Defense Against the Dark Arts the top spot. Stiles was absolutely sure he wanted to be an auror. It was basically like being a really badass magical cop, and he’d always wanted to be like his dad. But they were learning about Red Caps and kappas, and they they even took a field trip down to the dungeons where some Red Caps still lurked, and it made everyone wonder what kind of horrors had gone down in the dungeons of Hogwarts.

In Care of Magical Creatures they passed briefly by the topic of flobberworms, which were possibly the most boring creatures in existence, but it was something they needed for exams, so they trudged through. They also got the experience of seeing a Jobberknoll die, which was really actually horrible- as they didn’t utter a single sound during their lifetime up until the moment they died, at which point they released all the sounds they’d ever heard backwards. 

Astronomy was as boring as ever- despite the teacher, who Stiles thought was pretty cool, especially after she let them off when they stayed up all night atop the tower- because as much fun as it was to stay up till midnight to hold class, it really wasn’t. Stiles and Boyd were working on their star charts for Astronomy one night in October when Scott came bouncing in, holding a flier in one hand. He plopped down on the floor next to Stiles, and said, “Have you checked out the board yet?” Scott said excitedly, waving a piece of paper. Stiles pushed his homework away, and Boyd scooped up his own, and left, leaving the two of them alone.

“What is it?”

“They’re holding open Quidditch trials again!” Scott said, “At least for Hufflepuff. But didn’t someone on the Quidditch team quit last year?” 

Stiles nodded, “I think it was one of the beaters.”

Scott pushed him, “Then we have to try out! We’ve gotten a lot better than we were last year.”

\---

Three days later, Saturday morning, they were in the freezing cold rain with ten other dedicated students from each house, all trying out for the few positions available. Danny was still Keeper for the Ravenclaws, but they were looking for another Chaser, so he and his team were all up on the Pitch while Stiles, Scott, and Isaac got soaked on the ground. Isaac had shown up on the pitch five minutes before the trials actually began, clutching a borrowed broom and looking horribly out of place. He almost looked like he was going to turn around, but as soon as he spotted Scott and Stiles, he joined them.

“What position are you trying for?” Scott asked Isaac.

“Seeker, I think,” Isaac said, and Scott brightened.

“Cool! I’m going for Chaser, and Stiles is trying for Beater again.”

“Hey, I think we’re separating into houses-” Stiles said, as he noticed the rest of the Gryffindors inching their way to the left side of the field.

Scott waved, “We’ll see you in like an hour!”

The Gryffindor team captain, after Laura left, was Marcus Lemay. He was a stocky black sixth year who earned his place as the Captain despite being only a fifth year the year before, and was one of the Chasers. The rest of the team consisted of Malia Tate, a fourth year Beater; Erin Yeo, a seventh year Chaser; Ana Murphy, fifth year Chaser; Auden Ward was the seventh year Keeper; and Cooper Grinspun, Professor Grinspun’s fifth year brother, was the Seeker that replaced Laura last year. 

The position of Beater was open after the last girl quit, deciding that she’d taken one too many Bludgers to the head. Therefore, Stiles was going take her place. Theoretically. 

The trials took most of the morning, starting with groups of five flying around the pitch once- which resulted in the loss of two second years who somehow managed to get tangled up and plummet to the ground, only to be escorted to the infirmary by a third. The second round was Stiles’ group, which actually managed to get everyone around in one piece. The remaining seven were a diverse bunch, two tall seventh years, another third year, two fourth years Stiles was pretty sure he’d never even seen before, and a sixth year.

When they landed back on the ground and met up, Marcus marched over to the group and pointed to the two fourth years, and said, “You two don’t even belong to this house!” The two of them looked between themselves and giggled, as Marcus said, “You’re Hufflepuffs! Where did you even get those robes?”

One of the girls grinned, and said, “We were hoping you’d let us join the team anyway.”

“Cathy, you aren’t even allowed to join your own team,” Marcus said, sighing. “And letting you join my team would be nepotism.”

Cathy sighed, and said, “Come on, Julia. Lets try our luck with Slytherin.”

The two of them left, and Marcus turned to the group, “That was my girlfriend and her cousin.”

One of the seventh years raised his hand and said, “If I agree to be your girlfriend, will you let me join the team?” he grinned as Marcus sighed, and everyone snickered. 

“No, Michael, get back in line.”

The next part of the trials involved actually playing with bludgers. All five of them were released into the air, and played opposite teams, trying to kill everyone else with the Bludgers. Stiles managed to actually knock the other seventh year out- which he apologized for later- with one well-timed hit, which he learned from Derek way back in first year. He managed to get hit only once because he’d seen it too late, and by the end of trials was the least-bruised person there. Which was probably why he made the team. 

While waiting for Scott, the rest of the Gryffindor team was still waiting around checking out the other teams’ new talent. Cooper, whose sister suddenly appeared with a camera, was one of the remaining ones. Professor Grinspun started taking a dozen pictures of him as he was watching the trail. He frowned, and said, “Cass, _stop_.” A giggle, and a couple more shots later, he said, “ _Cassiopeia this was funny when I was a second year!_ ”

The Hufflepuff trials were ending with the captain and most of the current players of the team hovering above. As Scott landed on the ground he yelled, “I made the team!”

And Stiles yelled back over the howling wind, “Me too!” The both of them had been practicing all summer, so it wasn’t really a surprise they’d both gotten on the team, but when Stiles looked to Scott they stood up and yelled ecstatically anyway.

From behind Stiles, he heard Cooper shriek, “Cass _, what if Melinda sees these_?!”

Though it was a surprise about Isaac- they’d never seen him practice outside of Flying Class in first year, but he was really actually pretty good. He was fast and light; he dodged past all the Bludgers aimed directly for his head and caught the Snitch that was released remarkably fast. When he landed on the ground, having been made Hufflepuff Seeker, they cheered with him and patted him on the back, the three of them heading inside to sit by the fire before they could catch pneumonia. 

\---

Two days later, Stiles tiredly made his way down to breakfast, early Monday morning. He’d adjusted to the heavy course load, but there was still no getting around all of the homework, and he’d spent half the night finishing up homework for Herbology. Peter may not have been the greatest teacher, but at least he was in a good mood after mocking all the second years when they all lost their hearing last month from not wearing earmuffs while dealing with the Mandrakes, telling them all, “Serves you right for not listening when you should.” After that, the second years all paid rapt attention, and Peter was nearly insufferable.

Stiles sat down at the table next to Allison, who was already up and looking bright, and talking with Alicia. He helped himself to sausage links, as the owls swooped in, delivering hundreds of pieces of mail. Stiles groaned, “It’s too early for this.”

“Hey, Stiles, I think that one’s heading for you,” Boyd said, looking up at an owl heading in their direction. It wasn’t any of theirs, and it wasn’t Striggy, but he was making a nose dive for Stiles. In it’s talons was a large, broomstick shaped package.

Stiles sat up straighter, suddenly awake, as Alicia asked, “Were you expecting anything?”

“No!” Stiles said, as the owl dropped the package onto the table, knocking over his and Allison’s goblets, and splattering the porridge across the table. “Well, not really, I mean my dad said he would, but I didn’t really expect him to, they’re really expensive-” he said, untying the twine around the paper, as the three of them leaned over to look. Stiles pulled off the paper to find a Nimbus 3000, and a note, which he snatched up.

_I’m so proud you made the team, kid, your mom really would have been proud too. I know I promised you a new broomstick, since Claudia’s is about ten years old (hey, does Scott want it? It works just fine even if it is rather old.) I was kind of out of out of my depths here, Stiles, so I just got a mail-order one from the Daily Prophet, so I hope it’s what you were looking for. I love you, Stiles, good luck with practice!_

_Dad_

“It’s from my dad- he promised me a new broom if I made the team,” Stiles said, and Allison smiled.

“That’s gotta be better than our brooms at my house,” she said. 

“That’s so awesome!” Alicia said. “Can I try it?”

“No,” Boyd said immediately, and she frowned. “You haven’t even taken five lessons yet!”

As they bickered, Stiles looked over his new broomstick, fatigue forgotten. The Nimbus 3000 model was a couple of years old, but the boom itself was _brand new_ and all his. He couldn’t wait to try it out in practice next thursday. Tucking it under the table, he made a mental note to ask Scott if he wanted his mom’s old one, since his mom said they couldn’t really afford to get one right then. That meant he’d have to use a school broom, and Stiles didn’t know how old they were, but they were a lot older than his mom’s. 

\---

As soon as Quidditch trials were over, all of the other clubs started back up again, and Allison once again dragged Stiles back to the north tower to the French club. They were getting rather good at French, even if they weren't completely fluent yet. They’d perfected the pronunciation, although they were still learning most of the vocabulary (Stiles wouldn’t stop until he’d learned how to write an entire essay in French, complete with French swear words. Which he was totally going to use on Professor Harris some day,) and telling apart the tenses still messed with his head on a good day. Of course, Allison had a head start, as her parents actually spoke French. Stiles didn't think his dad even knew he was learning French. 

Madame Morrell stood in front of the students who had wandered up to the tower for the first meeting of the year- Stiles recognized most of them, but it looked like there were several first years and a couple of upperclassmen he didn’t know- and said, “As most of you know, I’m Madame Morrell, head nurse at Hogwarts- hopefully you know me by reputation alone, and not from visitation-” she stared intensely at a few people, who ducked their heads. “But I am also the French teacher here.” She smiled, “It’s nice to see so many familiar faces again.”

As she started discussing the intended curriculum for any new students, Allson turned to the other people at the larger makeshift table made by a bunch of desks pushed together. Stiles was beside her, and a couple of other second-year French students sat across from them. “Bonjour, comment allez-vous?” _Hello, how are you?_

One of the girls scrunched up her face trying to remember how to respond, “Um, Eh bienâ€¦ um, sorry- et vous?” _Well, and you?_

Margaret turned to Stiles, and she said, “Bonjour.”

"Bonjourno!" Stiles said.

"Stiles, that's Italian,” Allison leaned in and whispered.

“Hola?”

“Mister Stilinski,” Madame Morrell said from right behind him, her hands on her hips. “Fooling around will not be tolerated in my class. Stand up,” she said, and he scrambled to his feet. 

“Sorry Madam Morrell,” he said. 

She pointed to the board, “If you’re so comfortable speaking French that you speak Italian and Spanish in my classroom, please translate the board,” she said, and pointed.

Salut! bois couronnés d'un reste de verdure!

Feuillages jaunissants sur les gazons épars!

Salut, dernier beaux jours! le deuil de la nature

Convient à la douleur et plaît à mes regards!

He stared at it for a moment, before saying, “ _Hi._ There’s something with a _green crown-_ wait no, the crown is resting on green something,” he bit his lip, “I think that first line is- _Hi! a wooden crown on green_. Um. I’m not really sure what the tense it, but _yellow leaves on the lawn_ -”

“That’s enough, Stiles,” Madame Morrell said, gaining her composure. Everyone else was staring. That was a poem meant for fourth or fifth year students.

“What? I had a lot of free time this summer!” Stiles said.

\---

Danny huffed as he swung his trumpet case up on the table in the Great Hall. Everyone glanced up from their homework, star charts spread all around the table as everyone compared drawings. He dropped his books down next to it, and said, “I literally do not have enough time in the day.”

“Rough day?” Lydia asked lightly, and Danny groaned. She shrugged, and said, “I told you to get a Time-Turner.” Danny just groaned again, dropping his head to the table.

“Not that again,” he said, muffled, “Don’t have _time_ for a Time-Turner.”

“Hey!” Scott yelped, as Jackson the Rat was nibbling a hole through his chart. He held it up, and could see straight through Cepheus. He blinked at Allison through the hole. 

“Sorry,” Danny said, holding out an arm for Jackson to run up. “I haven’t had time to feed him, he’s gonna be so cranky at rat race club tonight,” he yawned. He’d been up since four that morning at Quidditch practice, the Ravenclaw captain wanting to get ahead of things, and then he’d had classes all day, and then the first music meeting for beginners was today- making him spend a frustrating hour and a half blowing into his brand-new trumpet. He was exhausted. 

“Do you want me to take him?” Isaac asked, “I know you have that thi-”

Danny shot up, “Oh shit!” he tossed Isaac the rat, and bolted, grabbing his trumpet.

“Whoa!” Isaac said, barely catching him. “I’ll drop him off later?” Isaac said, but Danny was already gone.

“Should have gotten a Time-Turner,” Lydia said smugly. 

\---

Stiles nearly wished he was being forced to get up at four in the morning like the Ravenclaws- or taking lunch practice times like the Hufflepuffs, or even the early afternoon times with the Slytherins- because after a full day of classes and clubs he just wanted to sleep. Or wander the halls in the middle of the night. Or something. But instead he was down at the Quidditch pitch with the wind howling around them as Marcus yelled commands from the ground. Stiles loved Quidditch, he really did, and he was ecstatic about actually making the team, but by the end of the practice the following Thursday night, after climbing the astronomy tower he felt as though he had been hit by a jelly-legs curse.

When he finally dropped down beside Scott, he fell asleep, drooling on the side of the castle while everyone pretended not to see. 

\---

On Saturday morning, Stiles was attempting to make his bed look presentable- as much as it could, when he was wearing his tie around his head and his shirt was misbuttoned. Scott skidded to a stop in the doorway on the room, face flushed, as he blurted out, “Oh god, I have a crush on Allison!”

Stiles looked up from the blanket, tie now in mouth, and rolled his eyes, a muffled, “What else is new? I’ve known that since, like, day one. You’ve been making eyes at her since we were eleven.”

“Stiles!” Scott whined, but he whirled around, “Oh god here she comes!” Scott said, panicking, “Do I look okay?” he tried to brush invisible dirt off his robes, and flatten his hair.

Stiles just rolled his eyes again, and muttered, “You look exactly the same as you did last year. And the year before. And probably before that.”

Moments later, Allison stuck her head inside the doorway and smiled, completely oblivious, “You guys coming to lunch?”

“Yeah, be there in a minute,” Stiles said, waving her off.

“Uh, hey, Allison,” Scott said, smiling dopily at her. 

“I’ll just be downstairs then,” she said, “Oh, Stiles, I think your shirt’s a little,” she tugged on her own.

“Oh, right,” Stiles said, dropping the tie, and unbuttoning it as she ducked out into the corridor. 

“She didn’t notice _my_ shirt,” Scott said.

“Now you sound like _me_ ,” Stiles said, “Stop it, it’s weird.”

\---

While the third years especially were talking about the first trip to Hogsmeade, the rest of the school was whispering about Mischief Night- the night before the before Halloween, and coincidentally, also Coach’s birthday. The previous two years they’d pulled minor pranks- putting Stink Pellets in all of the teachers’ desks, grabbing all the other houses’ laundry and charming them red (which had taken most of Gryffindor, honestly, and most of the older witches and wizards simply charmed their robes back, but the first years all stumbled around in mismatched red. Teachers were stopping them all in the hallways to fix them.) 

But this year, he and Scott were going to do this all on their own- they knew _real_ magic this year. Well. Okay, he’d gotten the spells from a Slytherin upperclassman. But they were going to perform them themselves this year. 

“Is the coast clear?” Stiles hissed, Scott sticking his head around the corner. The teachers were upping security, and bound to be patrolling the halls. 

“Ye- oh boy, is that Peeves?” Scott said, “Wow he looks pissed, and that’s-”

“What? Let me see!”

“Hey!” Scott said as Stiles pushed him out of the way. Peeves certainly did look pissed, and like he’d been hit with a wayward spell, because he was purple. 

“Shh!” one of the paintings said.

“Sorry,” Scott apologized, and they peered around the corner, and deemed it clear. They hurried across the corridor to a less-lighted hall, and then they tiptoed past the House Point Ceremony Chamber- which was currently marking Hufflepuff being ahead- “If we get caught, at least I won’t have to worry about Hufflepuff winning again.”

“Stiles!”

“Come this way- it’s a shortcut,” Stiles said, as he ran up the grand staircase, to a large painting of a funeral boat on the water. He pulled at one side of the golden frame, and it swung open, “One of the ghosts was talking about it.” 

Scott jogged up after him, but he was already heaving, “My inhaler-” he’d forgotten it back at his dorm.

“Right, here,” Stiles fumbled through his pockets before pulling one out, and handing it to Scott. “I always bring one- just in case,” he shrugged like it was no big deal. 

But Scott smiled, “Thanks, Stiles.”

“C’mon!” Stiles waved him in, and they followed the narrow passage up to another painting, this one of an empty throne in red and gold. Scott wondered if it belonged to the blond man in the boat of the previous painting. 

When they stuck their heads out, they saw a pair of girls sneak by with what looked like a can of red paint, and were almost caught by the caretaker who was marching the halls with his broom. “This is the Serpentine corridor- Coach’s office is on the sixth floor, we’ll have to go down one.”

Scott nodded, and the two of them moved slowly down the corridor, only stopping to peer out the window to determine it was probably past midnight. Soon enough they came upon Coach’s office, which was locked, but they simply used _Alohomora_ to unlock it- Coach wasn’t really big on locks. 

“Ready?” Stiles asked.

“Lets do this.”

\---

They hadn’t heard anything from Coach all morning- but Coach wasn’t the only one that had been pranked. Those girls had written, _The Chamber of Secrets Has Been Opened_ in four different corridors, a third of Ravenclaw was hiccuping poems- Professor Grinspun included- and Peeves was still purple. 

As they headed up to Ancient Runes, and Allison back to Gryffindor tower after lunch, they passed Coach’s office, which had the door propped open- he’d probably figured out they’d hexed the door to weep whenever it was closed- when suddenly there was a loud screech, and “MERLIN’S BEARD! Holy- I guess it didn’t wear off- now which one of you little-” another loud screech- “which one of you kids hexed my pen?!” 

Scott nearly blew his cover by giggling, Allison asked, “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” they said innocently, and hurried to class. 

\---

The next day was Halloween- and the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. They’d all turned in their forms to Allison’s dad- including one signed by Allison’s mom- and to all their respective heads of houses, except for Isaac, who’d dad refused (he’d barely even let him come back, they were all pretty sure his dad locked him in a closet at home, but every time they tried to breach the subject, he froze them all out. They were really considering going to a teacher at this point.)

Halloween morning everyone woke and wrapped themselves in house scarves and heavy cloaks- autumn had already fallen and it was chilly outside, the leaves crunching under their feet whenever they left the castle. Pumpkins decorated the halls even before the feast, and soon enough they were all rushing to the courtyard. The caretaker was checking names off a list as students passed, and was keeping a close eye on them all.

Scott’s mom had told them all to be careful- even in the wizarding world there were plenty of dangerous criminals and other things like that. While Boyd was persuading Erica to not bring her cat, Stiles and Scott slipped Isaac the Marauders' map so he could meet up with them later.

\---

Even with the approaching Quidditch match, they still had classes and practices. In Herbology they were working on puffapods, harvesting the pods and dropping the beans into a wooden pail. Allison and Lydia were paired up around one of the plants, the boys assigned to a different one on the other side of the greenhouse. Allison pulled off one of the pods absentmindedly, and when she went to drop it in her pail, she missed it entirely, and they bloomed in bursts before their eyes. 

“Hey, watch those pods!” Professor Hale yelled from across the greenhouse, “We have a limited number of them, and I don’t want to have to replace them with my own money again!” 

“Oh no, I’m sorry!” she said, and rushed to pick everything up. Lydia was watching her closely.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her own pail tapping against her thigh.  

Allison tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, and holding the bucket close, she glanced over at Peter. He had turned to lecturing a couple of Ravenclaws about how they probably should have been sorted into Hufflepuff with that kind of behavior. She said quietly, “It’s her birthday today. You know, _her_ ,” she inclined her head in Peter’s direction slightly. _Kate’s_.

“Oh!” Lydia paused, and then smiled, “I know something that’ll cheer you up.” 

An hour later the two of them were heading down to the Quidditch pitch, were the Hufflepuffs had practice that afternoon during lunch. Lydia smiled, and said to her friend’s frown, “Never frown, Allison, because someone could be falling in love with your smile.”

Allison gave her a halfhearted smile, but Lydia nudged her, and she looked upwards. Up high above the Quidditch pitch, Scott was looking down at her. He grinned and waved, and she smiled for real.

Lydia said, “Hmmph,” and smirked as they headed towards the towers, where they they were going to eat the lunch Lydia had told Stiles to grab for them, and go over the History neither of them even wanted to understand. 

Once they had reached the top of the steps, practice had really started, and Scott was weaving between the two beaters and one of the other chasers, vying for the ball. As she took a bite out of her sandwich, there was a flash of a camera. Lydia turned, frowning, and Allison put her sandwich back on her lap. When she turned, Matt was there, grinning. “Hi, ladies. I see you’re watching Quidditch practice- not my favorite team, but I’ll take what I can get.” He sat down beside her- almost too close- and they smiled at him, but Allison was starting to get the bad feeling Stiles had about him.

\---

The first Quidditch match of the year, like always, was the second weekend in November. Stiles woke up at four in the morning, and was absolutely unable to get back to sleep- not that he really wanted to- he was buzzing with excitement. By the time the first light of dawn was breaking through the windows, he was halfway through Quidditch Through the Ages for the third time. When he checked his alarm clock, he found it was nearly time for breakfast, so he changed into his Quidditch robes and grabbed his Nimbus 3000 and his bat, and headed downstairs. As soon as he entered the Great Hall, he was waved over by Marcus- most of the Gryffindor team already there. Malia seemed to still be sleeping, though, so Erin was sent to get her before breakfast started.

As soon as breakfast was really up and running and the entire team had gathered, Marcus was lecturing them all about how important breakfast was, and kept putting extras on their plates when they weren’t looking. Erin grinned and said, “Marcus, if I eat anymore I’m going to throw up during the game.”

Marcus looked her dead in the eye and said, “Do it all over Slytherin.”

As soon as breakfast was over they were all herded down to the locker room, where Marcus gave an entire speech on how they were “better than the Slytherins in every way” and he knew “they were capable of so much more than them.” And then they filed out onto the field, where Marcus shook the hand of the Slytherin team captain, and Coach Finstock was standing on the sidelines with his whistle. 

Even before the game started, Stiles could hear the roar of the crowd. He looked up to see all of his friends- even Erica, who usually supported Slytherin- cheering and holding up signs with “S T I L I N S K I” all over them. He grinned, just as Finstock said, “Mount your brooms!” and whistled as a couple of students snickered. Then he blew his whistle, and they were off.

Still on the ground, Coach was running around screaming, to no particular team, "The harder they fall, the. Harder. They. Fall!"

\---

The next morning, when Stiles hobbled down to breakfast, he found he was more sore than he’d ever been in his entire life. As he slowly stabbed his eggs, he discovered he was all bruised up from the two Bludger hits he hadn’t managed to avoid, and took a trip down to the infirmary, where Madam Morrell didn’t treat him any worse than any other student, despite their beating Slytherin in the match. 

\---

“Did you see that? Did you see it? I can’t believe I managed to hit her!” Stiles said. They’d won the game, just as expected, but three days later, Stiles was still in awe. 

“I’m so jealous!” Scott said, “I can’t wait for Hufflepuff’s match next week!” 

“I know! You’re gonna be awesome, Scott!” Stiles said, the two of them completed ignoring their Ancient Runes translations in front of them. “But the way I swung the bat- I thought the Bludger was surely going to skyrocket past her and come straight back at me- but it didn’t! It hit her square in her chest and made her spin right out of control and miss the Quaffle-”

From behind them, Harris, who was in charge of study hall this week, hit the both of them on the back of the head with a text book he’d picked up and said, “Stop talking! This is study hall!” as the two of them said, “Hey!” and rubbed their back of their heads. He still seemed to be upset about Stiles nearly dropping the crocodile heart earlier that morning in Potions.

As soon as Harris was out of earshot, they bent their heads together again, whispering. Stiles said, “Don’t let anyone tell you Hufflepuff is a pushover, Danny might be a good Keeper, but you’re a great Chaser, and Isaac won’t let them anywhere near the Snitch..."

\---

The snow fell in a blanket overnight, leading into a very white December shortly after Hufflepuff’s minor defeat. They were all very good, but it was rather difficult to keep up with Ravenclaw’s Seeker on a borrowed school broom like Isaac had, since his father wouldn’t even consider buying him a real one. The next morning after Defense Against the Dark Arts, where they had just finished up learning about hinkypunks, they were all traipsing through two feet of fresh snow to the greenhouses, which were, thankfully, warm. Several days in, snowmen started popping up all over around the castle, and someone had bewitched them into waving and smiling as people passed.

That weekend was going to be another trip to Hogsmeade, and the group were all planning on doing their Christmas shopping there, rather than taking trips to Diagon Alley or ordering out of a catalog like they usually did. Stiles was pretty sure he overheard Scott telling Allison he was planning on getting Stiles a pair of those screaming socks from Gladrags Wizardwear- which Stiles was also planning on getting _him_. 

Saturday morning, everyone was up bright and early, and wrapped in their heavy cloaks- Isaac was simply hiding his, along with the Marauders’ map Scott had snuck him last night. The group marched out of the castle together, and Scott and Stiles broke away to go wait for Isaac in Honeydukes. They’d meet up with everyone at Three Broomsticks later. 

Scott was buying a box of Wizochoc and no-melt ice cream for his mom- they were her favorites, and he didn’t need to store it in the fridge, which would totally have keyed her in- when Stiles, who was on lookout, spotted Isaac’s curls as he headed up the steps. 

“Psst, Scott!” he said, and elbowed him.

“What? Oh!” he said, and turned back to the shopkeeper, “Thank you!” distracting her so Isaac had time to come around to Stiles’ side. 

“I got your sugar-spun quills,” he said, shoving a bag in Isaac’s hands. He opened the bag to inspect them, and pulled one out to suck on as they pushed their way past the crowd. As soon as they were outside, they were all taken aback by the sight of the village. It looked so much like a Christmas card- snow was perched on all of the rooftops, wreaths were hung on every door, and enchanted candles floated on the trees. 

For a moment they all gaped, until a group of carolers came by singing, and they regained their composure in time to move out of their way. “Wow,” Scott said, “Bath never looks like this.”

“Neither does Wimborne,” Isaac said.

“How awesome would it be to live here?” Stiles said, “It’s the UK’s only wizard-only village- you’d be able to practice magic whenever you wanted, and you wouldn’t have to worry about any secrecy laws!”

“Yeah,” Scott said dreamily. 

“Anything is better than my dad’s,” Isaac mumbled. 

Scott frowned, and then said, “Hey, Isaac, do you wanna come to my house over Christmas Holiday? My mom would totally be okay with it! She actually wants to meet you, meet all of my friends,” he mumbled.

Isaac’s head shot up, “Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely,” Scott said. “Do you want to come?”

“Yeah, yeah I really do.”

“Awesome,” Scott grinned.

A few hours later, after they’d done their shopping in various stores and Stiles was pretty sure he had everything he needed, the three of them ducked into the Three Broomsticks where they found Allison, Danny, and Lydia already at one of the tables. Allison waved them over, where their bags were piled at their feet, and they all dropped down on the wooden benches, happy to be out of the cold. 

“We wanted to wait for you,” Allison told them, “Erica and Boyd should be here in a few minutes- oh, look, that’s them!” she said, and they turned to look at the door, which Erica had pushed open to make way for Boyd and the packages he was carrying for her. Their cheeks were flushed and she was grinning as she bounced over to the table and sat beside Danny. 

Boyd dropped the bags next to her, and Scott stood up, “I’ll get drinks, everyone want Butterbeer?” 

A chorus of ‘yes!’es and nods came about the table, and Boyd said, “I’ll come with you,” and the two of them disappeared over to the bar, where they each got four and hurried back to the table, where everyone was talking about their morning. 

“Gimmie!” Stiles said, and made grabby hands as soon as Scott appeared, and started passing the drinks out on his side of the table. Butterbeer was still the most delicious thing Stiles had ever tasted- by the end of the afternoon he had drunk three. It didn’t really help the sugar high he had after Honeydukes, and he was hyper for the rest of the trip.

When they made it back to their room that night before dinner to put away their purchases in their trunks, someone must have been chewing Droobles Best Blowing Gum, for there were bluebell-colored bubbles floating all over the room. Stiles quickly stashed his things under his spare robe, careful not to break anything, and headed down to dinner. 

\---

A week later, they all headed with their trunks down to the Hogwarts Express after breakfast, and headed back home for the holidays. Erica and Boyd stayed as usual- just giving everyone their wrapped presents before they left. Isaac was heading home with Scott, whose mom was absolutely all for it when she found out Isaac never went home for winter holidays. On the train, everyone else exchanged presents, since they’d all bought them at Hogsmeade. Some were pristinely wrapped, like Allison’s, whose looked as though she were taught by the best, others, like Isaac’s, looked as though they’d never seen a present in their life. Stiles were perfect, of course. He’d spent over an hour wrapping them all when Boyd was out of the common room, visiting the Giant Squid in the Slytherin common room, since the lake had been frozen over all month. 

As they passed them out, Isaac always seemed surprised at getting anything, although Stiles knew everyone got him something every year. Scott’s presents were all wrapped with love, and ten rolls of spellotape- he’d gotten Isaac a blue scarf from Gladrags when Isaac had wandered over to the socks. 

None of them needed- or even wanted- candy from the trolley, which seemed to surprise the witch who worked it. They had enough from the shops. As soon as the train stopped, the wizards and witches poured off onto the platform, and to their parents. 

Isaac and Scott were picked up by Melissa, and driven to Bath, while Stiles waved hello and was driven back to his apartment by one of his dad’s officers, since his dad was at a crime scene. 

\---

Two days into break, around ten at night, Stiles used the Floo Network to appear in the fireplace of Scott’s house. Hearing the noise he made, Melissa ran in with one of Scott's Beater sticks raised at the ready, making Stiles go, “Whoa! Mrs. McCall!”

She stopped, and said, bat still raised, “Stiles?!”

“Do either of you even play Beater?!” Stiles asked. 

“SCOTT,” Melissa called behind her, lowering the bat, Scott and Isaac running out in their pajamas a moment later, rubbing their eyes.

“Stiles!” Scott said, his eyes lighting up. 

"Can you PLEASE tell your friend to use the front door?" Melissa said, exasperated. 

"But we lock the front door, he wouldn't be able to get in,” Scott said. 

"Exactly!” Melissa sighed, and said, “I’m going to bed. Stiles, join the dog pile in Scott’s room.” 

“C’mon, Stiles,” Scott said, grinning, as he pulled Stiles up and out of the fireplace, an exhausted Isaac following behind. 

\---

“So, when do you need to get back home?” Melissa asked the next morning over breakfast, the three boys in pajama pants still, she in a long robe. 

Isaac looked up, “We don’t have to go back to Hogwarts for another week.”

Then she said, with a smile, “No, I mean, with your parents.”

“Oh. I don’t.”

“Won’t your parents miss you, Isaac?”

He shook his head, “My mom’s dead. My dad won’t even notice I’m gone.” 

Melissa glanced at Scott and Stiles, and then looked at him closely, and said, “If you ever need anything, Isaac, anything, don’t hesitate to call me.” He nodded, and continued to stuff his face with cereal. She sighed, and said, “Doesn’t anyone ever feed you at that school?”

\---

Having to be at work on the day they needed to be at the platform, Melissa couldn’t take any of them to King’s Cross, so the two boys went through the fireplace to Stiles’ and his dad took them. However, they weren’t the first to arrive. Danny looked terrible, leaning against the window with his eyes closed. They weren't hesitant to tell him, and he just rubbed his eyes and said, "I didn’t get any sleep in three weeks. A ghoul moved in over the term and my parents didn't tell me. It wouldn’t stop banging on the pipes when I was trying to sleep."

\---

Classes started up again, with the holidays nearly behind them, except for the occasions when Seline managed to find leftover strings of tinsel and drag it around the castle, just out of everyone’s reach. Care of Magical Creatures may not have been incredibly exciting, but it could be fun- Deaton had made a bonfire out of salamanders, and the class went hunting in the nearby forest for logs and dry sticks to keep it ablaze, while they all scurried around happily on the burning logs. 

Even though they had just returned from break, they already had mounds of homework, and Stiles, Scott, and Danny were all in the library pouring over books one afternoon mid-January. Needing one he didn’t have, Danny got up and was searching a bookshelf a few feet away, where Matt was pulling books from the shelves. Stiles looked up from his parchment on Potions, to see Matt flirting with Danny. Danny was blushing, and Stiles said, “I thought Matt liked Allison!”

“What?” Scott looked up, horrified, as Danny sat back down smiling. “Stiles!”

Stiles, ignoring Scott, complained, “Why don’t you ever flirt with me? Aren’t I attractive to gay guys?” Danny rolled his eyes and ignored _him_.

\---

Stiles woke up suddenly, to Scott shaking his shoulders and saying, “Stiles, wake up! Wake _up_ , Stiles! You’re doing it again!” _Why was Scott in his bedroom?_ Stiles thought, sleepily, _he was a Hufflepuff._

“Wha-” Stiles said, and blinked his eyes open. This was _not_ his bedroom. He was in a corridor on the third floor, nowhere near Gryffindor tower. Oh god, he was sleepwalking again. This hadn’t happened all year- he’d thought he was finally over it! He’d only done it three or four times last year, although it’d happened countless times first year, where he’d had to be escorted back to his room by various teachers, including his head of house, and once or twice Scott had found him and they’d gotten caught together.

“I thought you’d stopped, Stiles!” Scott said, sounding worried. 

Stiles, bleary-eyed, said, “It must be the lack of sleep from Quidditch practice. How did you know I’d be up?”

“Yes, Scott, how did you know Stiles was going to be up roaming the halls?” They whirled around to see Professor Argent, with his hands on his hips, staring at them expectantly.

Scott flushed and says, “I had a feeling.”

“How did you know we were up?” Stiles yawned. “Usually someone just finds me.”

Argent said, “I had a feeling.” Then he shook his head, “The caretaker saw you.” He turned to Scott, “I trust you can find your way back to your room, Mister McCall?” Scott nodded readily. He sighed again, and then said, “Having gotten up to look for your friend, and assuming you weren’t out of bed for any other reason,” he fixed him with a long stare, Scott gulped, and nodded, “I’m not going to deduct any points from Hufflepuff.”

“Thank you Professor!” Scott said, and waved to Stiles, “I’ll see you later?”

Stiles nodded, and Argent said, “ _Now_ , McCall.”

\---

The third Quidditch match, between Ravenclaw and Slytherin, in which Ravenclaw decimated the team and made it seem as though Ravenclaw was going to be victorious once again, came and went in a flash of practices, French lessons, and homework assignments. Before they realized it, January was over and it was nearly Valentines’ Day. Stiles wasn’t going to bother with anything for Lydia- okay, yeah he was, but it was just going to be the wildflowers he picked when he went with Scott to get some for Allison. He was going all out for her, including a pink, heart-shaped card covered with glitter. It was actually kind of sickening, if it hadn’t been Scott. 

Having delivered his flowers at breakfast, and Scott his card and flowers, their jobs for the day was done. However, Allison’s day was far from over. She adored the card and the flowers from Scott- they were beautiful- and Lydia had given her chocolates as her best friend. Since it was Sunday, she didn’t have any classes to get to, and had finished her studying days ago- perks of being best friends with the smartest girl in school- and so she thought she might take a walk around the grounds admiring the last of the melting snow, or maybe go shooting in the woods if she could get a bow from her father. 

Heading down from breakfast, she heard, “Hey, wait up, Allison!” from Matt, who was chasing after her. 

She stopped, and said, with a small smile on her face, “Hi, Matt, what do you want?”

He finally caught up with her, and said, “I wanted to ask if you’d be my Valentine,” he said, and before she had a chance to answer, he took a step closer, and closed his eyes, leaning in to kiss her.

She put a hand on his chest, and said softly, “Wait, Matt- I’m sorry, but I’m not interested,” she shook her head, “I like somebody else.”

Before she had a chance to see how he reacted to her rejection, she hurried down the corridor out of sight. She spent the rest of the morning outdoors, not even bothering to go inside to fetch a bow. She picked a couple more wildflowers to weave into her braid, and explored some of the outer bits of the castle she hadn’t seen before. Noticing how high the sun was in the sky, she hurried in for the last of lunch. However, Matt wasn’t there.

Thinking he’d taken her rejection much too hard, she hurried over to the Slytherin table, where Erica was stuffing a sandwich into her mouth. As soon as she swallowed, Allison asked, “What’s the password?” 

Not even bothering to ask why she needed it, Erica said, “Aliquo modo ad fines eorum.” _‘Any means to reach their ends’_ in Latin, as the other Slytherins stared.

“Thank you,” Allison said, and hurried down to the dungeons. Using the password Erica had given her, she let herself into the Slytherin dorms. She let herself take a pause and glance around the common room- she’d never been there before, although she’d been in all three others. She made her way to the corridor of third year rooms, and found the one labeled with Matt’s name, and knocked. The door was open, so he must be there, she thought, and let herself in. 

But Matt wasn’t in there- instead, she found over a hundred pictures of herself covering the back wall. Some were photos manipulated to where Matt was in them, others just of her, dating back to early second year. She gaped at them in shock for a few moments, before walking over to his bed, picking one up from there. Allison heard the door creak open, and turned around, pulling out her wand faster than she could think about it, picture in her other hand, with a shocked and hurt look on her face. 

Matt, entering the room with a camera around his neck, tried to explain. “Allison, it’s not what you think-” he said stepping towards her. 

But that made her angry, and an angry Allison is a dangerous Allison. She quickly lost all emotion in her face, and drew her wand to a fighting position like she’d been taught, stepping forward in one smooth move. Then, she hexed him with the full body-bind curse, saying, “Don’t you dare take another picture of me, _ever_ again, Matt. If you do I’ll report you to the headmaster and have you expelled immediately.” 

And she whirled around, letting him fall, and said, “ _Incendio_ ,” to light all the pictures of herself and Matt on fire. She turned back to him, and said, “You should come out of that in time to put out the flames on your bed,” and stepped over his petrified body.

\---

Later that day, recanting the story to Lydia, Lydia said, “Wow, Allison, and I thought I had awful luck with boys.”

Allison snorted, “Lydia, literally every third year boy wants to be your Valentine.”

“Not two of them..."

\---

Early March had Scott and Stiles paired up in the dungeons, attempting- and failing- more complex potions than before. However, Scott seemed to be getting distracted by more than just the possibility of a failing grade in the class. 

"Dude, quit staring!" Stiles said. “You’re letting the potion burn!”

"But she's so pretty!" Scott whined, staring off in the distance at Allison, who was working on her and Isaac’s potion with a steady hand. She’d gotten her hair cut, so it was just a little bit past her shoulders, and quite curly. 

“Then make sure the potion doesn’t explode so _you’ll_ still be pretty!”

\---

At their next- and several following- Ancient Runes class they discovered just how much Professor Blake loved Celtic runes- she spent three whole classes gushing on them- as most students attempted to hurriedly take notes before finally giving up- before they even started to translate them, which they did for the remaining part of the month.

\---

A week after Stiles’ fourteenth birthday, a couple of weeks after the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match (the Gryffindors won, but it was fun to play against Scott, even though they didn’t have the same positions,) and the Easter Holiday, the upperclassmen were starting to work on horrid plants that were held in the same greenhouse as their tiny, harmless plants, and therefore everyone was bitten by one at least once a class, if you didn’t remember they were behind you. However, Peter literally did not care if any student swore louder than what he was teaching, so despite the bites, it wasn’t too terrible of a class. 

And he might not be all that great, but when one of the other students broke their arm, Peter calmed them down enough to get them to the infirmary, sobbing reduced to a couple sniffles as he picked her up. 

\---

The next Hogsmeade trip was in late April, the first time since the weather had cleared up, and everyone was excited about the chance to go around the village in something other than their heaviest cloaks and three scarves apiece. It might not have been quite warm enough to really warrant ice cream, but in the spirit of the cleared snow, the group headed down to the local ice cream shop after picking up Isaac. They all visited a few more places, including Zonko’s, which Lydia found distasteful, but Erica loved. 

However, they didn’t get to spend as much time as they wanted that particular visit- they needed to finish up their essays on vampires for Defense Against the Dark Arts, which were due in a couple of days.

\---

Several weeks later was the Hufflepuff-Slytherin match, where all of their friends sided with the Hufflepuffs for Isaac and Scott’s sake, even though Erica was still disappointed when her house lost. It had been a terrible couple of years for the Slytherins, really. Erica was getting antsy. 

Tension was high between the Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws for the next two weeks: the Ravenclaws were up nearly fifty points for the Quidditch cup, so many of the two houses were freezing each other out, and the communication between the two were silent as the individual houses walked to Herbology. Allison and Stiles were participating in it goodnaturedly, and Lydia and Danny mostly just ignored them because of house pride. 

The three Gryffindors paired up to work on their _Incindia Tria_ work, when Deaton walked in. He and Peter had a short discussion they couldn’t hear, before moving to inspect a bunch of dangerous-looking plants much closer to the three of them. From what Stiles could make out, Professor Hale had been growing some plants for one of Deaton’s upper-level classes, and needed help moving them, “This might get a bit dangerous, but if you could spare a few students-”

“Hmm,” Professor Hale said, tapping his chin, “Which of you do I like the least?”

“Professor Hale!” someone objected, scandalized.

\---

Stiles was once again awake early on the day of the final quidditch match, but this time only an hour morning, and because Marcus was shaking his shoulders, and saying, “Wake up, Stiles, we need to strategize!” and dragging the bleary-eyed third year down to breakfast with five other tired members of his team. Half an hour of pointing at a miniature diagram with Marcus’ wand later, a similarly-bleary-eyed hoard of Ravenclaws mumbled and shuffled their way into the hall.

“Hey Marcus, looks like Ravenclaw had the same idea,” Erin said. Marcus looked up and glared at them, before sticking his head back down, and shoving an apple from his coat pocket into her mouth. 

She let out a choking noise, and he said, “Don’t talk. Energize.”

After that, people started trickling in, all decked out in their team gear- scarves were worn despite it only being slightly chilly, neutral houses were dividing their loyalties, teachers taking sides- literally, some of the teachers were moving from their normal seats to one side or the other. 

“Remember, don’t catch the Snitch until we are at least fifty points up,” Marcus said to Cooper for the third time. 

“Yep,” he said, his mouth full of food.

“And don’t talk with your mouth open.”

“Yep.”

As soon as they were finished eating and everyone was starting to file down to the Pitch, people were stopping by the table to wish them luck, all of Stiles’ friends included. As the last of Hufflepuff was exiting, Scott already having gone with Allison, Melinda hopped over, a Gryffindor scarf wrapped around her neck, and said, “Good luck!” before kissing Cooper on the cheek. 

When she joined her fellow Gryffindor supporters, Cooper sat back down, a lovestruck look on his face, “That’s it, I’m in love.” 

Marcus clapped him on the back, “No time for love. Only Snitches.”

As the teachers followed, Professor Argent stopped by to put his hand on each of their shoulders and wish them luck, and Professor Grinspun even hugged her brother for a full minute before telling him good luck, even though her team was surely going to beat them. 

The game started off well enough, but then Auden got a fowl for sticking his hand inside the hoop, and then Malia broke her arm so they had to stop the game, and Ravenclaw was up thirty points. Stiles had his eye on the Bludgers, which were repeatedly smacking Danny, thanks to Malia. The Ravenclaw Seeker, however, seemed to spot something only thirty minutes into the game, and took a dive. He lost it, though, so they were back to playing normally. Soon enough the Gryffindors were back up to par, and Auden was keeping his hands _very_ far away from the inside of the hoops, and just throwing his whole body into the blocks. Danny was just as good, though, so they weren’t getting many goals either, but they were back to equal, and looking like they were about to get ahead. Then the Snitch was spotted again, and Marcus was making cutting motions- he wanted him to toss the plan and just _get it_. A Bludger was headed straight for Marcus’ head, so Stiles had to take a hit- he wasn’t going to make the hit in time, so he’d just have to settle for knocking Marcus out of the way with his own body. 

It worked, and then- an hour into the game- the crowd was roaring! Cooper had risen above the Pitch and shaking his fist. He’d caught it! The teams lowered, and captains shook hands, but then they were hoisting Cooper on their shoulders and raising the Quidditch Cup above their heads. 

\---

After that, spirits were remarkably better- the Gryffindors didn’t even really mind the extra studying, even though all they wanted to do was lounge outside in the summer air. June was already upon them, and while the third years were only studying for third year exams, the upperclassmen, like the others on the Quidditch team, were studying for O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s. 

When exams arrive, everyone was beyond exhausted, turning teapots into tortoises before lunch for Transfiguration (Stiles’ may or may not still have had the china pattern, and Scott’s was steaming.) And then two straight hours of exams after: Cheering Charms for Charms (they came out of that one quite happy, although nobody could tell if it was because they were confident that they passed, or if it was just the charm work) and Celtic runes for Ancient Runes (oh what a surprise.) Then the next morning- after a late night of going over all the animals they’d ever covered- they were released upon a grove and told to find and make the salamanders happy for Care of Magical Creatures (Stiles decided that he wasn’t going to go look for them like instructed, instead he was going to build a fire and make them come to him. He was so successful he got extra points for original thinking, rather than points off for not following instructions.) 

Potions was dreadful, with Harris’ Confusion Concoction (Stiles got it to thicken correctly, but nearly forgot to add the scurvy grass.) For the History of Magic exam, they were to write everything they knew on the medieval witch-hunts (oddly enough, most of what Stiles actually remembered came from the Astronomy professor, whose second favorite subject seemed to be witch-hunts.) Astronomy, Herbology, and finally Defense Against the Dark Arts. They’d all been waiting for the last one- it was going to be a practical exam, as though they were really wizards and witches out in the world facing creatures!

Outdoors was an obstacle course where they must wade across a pool with a grindylow, cross potholes full of redcaps, head across a marsh while ignoring directions from a hinkypunk, and then battle the boggart from the chest. (Stiles was so excited he tripped and fell face-first into the hinkypunk marsh and had to finish while coated in mud. He was pretty sure he saw Professor Argent stifling a laugh. Allison stormed the course, only pausing at the image of her aunt, but undoubtedly getting full marks.) 

After that, he and Scott were completely free- although a couple of their friends still had exams, such as the Muggle Studies one- and so they threw themselves down on the grasses near the lake, drinking iced pumpkin juice that Scott had gotten from a house elf down in the kitchens. 

\---

The next morning, everyone was ecstatic about having the last of the exams behind them, and were all awaiting their scores. Scott was sitting with the Gryffindors, laughing with Alicia about something she did horribly wrong on her exam that seemed terribly funny the next day, when the mail started pouring in. Striggy swooped in with a letter clamped in his beak, but instead of heading towards Stiles, he dropped the letter in Scott’s lap before taking half of Boyd’s toast, and deserting them. 

Stiles peered over into Scott’s lap, as the latter wiped his hands on a napkin before checking the return address, “It’s from my mom!” he said, and tore the letter open, reading over it. He broke out into a grin, and said, “She wants to know if Isaac wants to stay over summer holidays! I have to go tell him!” Scott said, hopping up to go tell him before the final Hogsmeade visit of the year. 

\---

The exam grades came in on the last day of the term. Everyone let out a sigh of relief they hadn’t known they were holding, when they found they’d passed all of their subjects- even Potions. Even with their victory in Quidditch, the Gryffindors didn’t come in first for the house cup- Ravenclaw colors adorned the hall that night.

The next morning as they climbed onto the train, Allison asked them, “Do you think you all would like to come to the Quidditch World Cup with me this summer? Lydia hates Quidditch, only goes to the house matches because of Ravenclaw. I know Danny already has a ticket because of his family.”

“Do I wanna go? Hell yeah!” Stiles said, fist-pumping the air. 

Scott turned to Isaac, “I wanna go, do you wanna go?”

“I do, I really do,” Isaac said, nodding enthusiastically.

“Awesome,” Allison said, smiling. “Guys?”

“I can’t,” Erica complained, “We’re going to visit my stuffy old Aunt Mildred.”

“I’m going with her,” Boyd shrugged.

“He can’t leave me alone with those people.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, this chapter was a bit shorter than the first, but longer than chapter 2. Once again, thank you to Savvy, my faithful editor. 
> 
> I'm really sorry about the horridly-long time periods between chapters, but school is actually super time consuming. Expect chapter 4 around late April!
> 
> \---
> 
> Year Four: Mad love
> 
> Fourth year is really actually boring, until Scott and Stiles get lost in the forbidden forest. (It's better not to ask why they were in there in the first place.)


	4. Year Four: Mad love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fourth year is really actually boring, until Scott and Stiles get lost in the forbidden forest. (It's better not to ask why they were in there in the first place.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****** IMPORTANT NOTE!!!! *****
> 
> Apparently people are concerned Derek isn't coming back. Okay, Derek is like 20 years old right now. Stiles, on the other hand, is barely 14. I promise, though, Derek WILL RETURN. (Check the main summary.) He's going to come back when Stiles is actually old enough to date someone who is that much older than him. He'll have three chapters with Derek, starting with chapter six when he's 16 years old. I wanted this fic to detail more than just the year when Stiles falls in love with Derek, okay? And building that year up meant going through all the others. If you don't care about the adventures of Stiles and his other friends, seriously just wait until I post chapter 6 and read that.
> 
> \---
> 
> Yeah, sorry guys. I got lazy and put off writing and then there were finals and I considered joining Voldemort's army, and you know how that goes...
> 
> Also, I didn't quite intend for this chapter to go this way. At first I just had Scott and Stiles figuring things out but the characters literally strong-armed me and Allison got involved and then Danny and things went haywire from there.
> 
> I need to stop naming my chapters after unrelated tv tropes and song lyrics.

A couple days prior to the final of the World Cup, Stiles met up with Scott and Isaac in Diagon Alley. Like every year, they were there to do their school supply shopping- even if this was the first time Isaac actually got to go. The three of them had stopped by the bank to take money out of their vaults, Melissa having set one up for Isaac over the last winter break, so they’d have money for souvenirs at the World Cup, and so their parents could simply let them go shopping alone, having decided they were old enough. 

As they moved through the crowded alley streets, dodging between large groups of wizards and witches who all seemed to be having the same idea, Isaac read out the fourth year supply list- which was oddly short.

 _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 4)_ by Miranda Goshawk

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_

“Oh, and I’ve got to get _New Theory of Numerology_ ,” Isaac said. He was taking Arithmancy, unlike Scott and Stiles. He seemed to be doing really well at it, while the other two disliked the idea of magic and math. 

“I’m running low on moonseed and ptolemy, we’ll need refills for our potion-making kit-” Scott said. The three of them made faces; potions was possibly their least favorite class.

Stiles sighed, “And I need new quills, three of them snapped in half last year. And I need new robes, the charms on my old ones wore off around March and I’ve been wearing them three inches too short for months.”

“Malkin’s first, then?” Isaac said, and the three of them were off.

“So,” Scott started, as they headed down the side street leading them to the shop, “I wanna ask Allison out- I mean, I’m going to do it when we get back to school, not on the trip,” he said, shaking his head, “But what if she says no?” Allison couldn’t go shopping with them since her father had taken her on a hunting trip, and her mother had gotten her supplies as soon as the letters arrived.

“ _Scott,_ ” Stiles said, “she’s not going to say no. Trust me. I know these things. She thinks you’re cute, or whatever.”

Scott grinned, “Okay, okay."

Isaac was oddly quiet, and when Stiles glanced over at him, he could see that he had a sour look on his face, and- he actually looked kind of jealous. But Stiles couldn’t tell who of. “Um,” Isaac said suddenly, “I see Erica and Boyd- they’ve just headed into the bookshop, I think I’m going to go join them since I don’t need robes.”

“Wait, we’ll come with you!” Scott said, but Isaac’s sour look returned and he shook his head.

“No, it’s okay,” and then disappeared into the crowd before they could say anything more.

Scott looked after him, puzzled, “Well, that was weird.”

Stiles snorted, “Yeah,” but promptly forgot the look he’d seen on Isaac’s face.

“Malkin’s?” Scott said, and Stiles nodded. Twenty minutes later, they exited from the shop with Stiles’ new every-day robes, complete with growth charms. He’d just decided to wear it, rather than juggle it with all of his other supplies, so it swished out behind him as they headed towards the Apothecary. As they neared the shop, Stiles saw a glint in the gutter.

“Hey, what’s that?” he said, elbowing Scott.

“What?”

“That!” Stiles said, and crouched over the gutter. He pulled what looked like a miniature glass top out, covered in a bit of mud, and wiped it on his pants. Scott peered over his shoulder.

“Hey, I know what that is!”

Stiles frowned, “What is it?”

“It’s a Sneakoscope! Its supposed to light up and spin when someone untrustworthy is near!” 

“Really? Cool!” Stiles said, and pocketed it, the two of them ducking into the Apothecary. 

\---

Stiles, for once, wasn’t running late. It was actually Allison’s parents this time. He had gotten up bright and early that morning- way before the break of dawn- but his things had mostly already been packed the previous night in his old school, backpack. His trunk had been repacked with all of his school things- rolls of parchment, his cauldron, and new spellbooks- since they would just head from Allison’s after the World Cup to King’s Cross. Allison didn’t like to play Quidditch nearly as much as the three boys did, but she loved supporting them and her mom always got tickets, so it became somewhat of a tradition for her family.

Stiles’ dad stuck his head in the open doorway, “Do you have everything? Your pillow? Scarves? Your wand?” 

“ _Yes_ , dad, most of that was packed last night,” Stiles said, but he glanced back in his trunk once again, just to make sure. If he didn’t have his pillow, he wouldn’t get a good night’s sleep. His wand was tucked in his shoe like usual, and he had at least two different Gryffindor scarves underneath his broom. 

“Don’t forget to let Striggy out before you go, he’ll probably not like the apparating too much, I hear,” DI Stilinski said. 

“Oh, yeah,” Stiles said, and snapped the trunk shut, bolting it before heading to his mother’s study. He didn’t really spend too much time in there anymore; while it didn’t cause him the pain it would have three years ago, it was still very much his mother’s space, and it reminded him a lot of her- it even still smelled like her. This was why Striggy stayed in there when they were home, rather than in Stiles’ room, like Allison’s owl Colly did, or Scott’s toad Todd. He had originally been Stiles’ mom’s, and missed her too. 

But when Stiles opened the door, Striggy hooted happily and scooted to the edge of the cage. After letting him out for the morning- at which time Allison’s parents were _still_ not there- Stiles tended to the cleaning of the cage. When he was done, Striggy still hadn’t arrived back, so he took to looking around the room. Tucked into the bookshelf, Stiles spotted his mother’s old Wizard’s Chess set. He grinned- chess was his game. His mom taught him on her loyal set, his dad taught him on his normal muggle one. Stiles was good. After his mom died he’d inherited her set, but they’d moped around too much following her death to really do anything for nearly a year, and so he'd forgotten about it.

Pulling it out of the bookshelf, he opened it, and the little pieces scurried to life, seeming excited to be used again. It was a relatively nice set; well loved, but of quality material. He spotted two pieces that were from a different set- pieces lost or destroyed and then replaced by claimed pieces. 

“Stiles!” he heard his dad call, “They’re here!” He shut the set quickly and turned to the cage, which Striggy had flown into when he wasn’t looking. He shut his ran to his bedroom with it tucked under his arm, and quickly packed it with his things. As he pulled his trunk out, Professor Argent stood there talking with his dad. He looked like he’d been going about all morning, but he was in apparent good spirits, and turned his grin to Stiles as he came out into the hall.

“I was just telling your father, Stiles, about how the cup has returned to Britain for the first time in twenty years,” he turned to Stilinski, and said, “I know your wife was a witch- have you ever been to an official match, Detective?” 

Stilinski shook his head, and said, “I’ve never actually seen a real Quidditch match, just my wife and Stiles when he was a kid.” 

“Well, we should be going, the portkey should be leaving in-” he glanced down at his watch, “half an hour. Detective,” he said, nodding at Stilinski, who turned to Stiles.

“I won’t get to see you before you head to Hogwarts, I don’t at least get a hug?” he said, holding out his arms. 

Stiles ran into them and squeezed his dad tightly, letting out a muffled, “I’ll miss you, dad,” before pulling back.

Chris smiled at the both of them and held out his arm, “Hold on tight,” before Stiles gripped it and they were off. As they disapparated to the Argent household, Stiles felt as though they were being squeezed through a tight tube, and could feel the world whisk past them. Suddenly they popped into the yard in front of Allison’s, and his three friends lit up from the porch. Scott had been sitting on his upturned trunk, swinging his legs, and Allison was leaning on Isaac’s, head propped up on her hand. Isaac was sitting crossed legged on the ground next to them, all three looking tired and bored in the early morning fog. 

However, as soon as they saw the two of them, they brightened up and Scott yelled out, “Stiles!” hopping down from his trunk. The three of them were waving from the porch, yards away from him. 

When he dragged his own trunk over to them, he saw they were all relieved to see him, “We were beginning to worry we’d miss the Portkey!” Allison said. 

Professor Argent took the handle of the trunk and Striggy’s cage from Stiles, and said, “Isaac and Scott’s pets are already inside; the neighbors will be around to check on them twice a day until we get back.” 

The door banged open from behind them, and they all whirled around as Allison’s mother, looking rather frantic and impatient, said, “We’d just have to leave without him. We wouldn’t miss it, Allison,” walking by them with a list in her hand.

 _"Mom_!” Allison said, appalled.

Victoria shook her head and said, “We’d just have had your father meet us there with him.” Stopping at her husband, she said, “Do we have everything? The tent? The tickets?”

“You have the tickets, dear,” he said, looking at her indulgently. 

“Oh, yes- very well,” she said, patting the pocket of her robe. Her husband was dressed relatively normal, in jeans and a tee shirt. She turned to the teenagers and said, “Everyone have their things?” and, headed towards her husband.

The four of them hopped up off the porch and said, “Yes!” before she smiled.

“Alright- Chris?” she said.

“Oh, yeah-” he said and stepped into the house with the cage and trunk behind him, as he called, “Isaac, Scott?” the two of them hopped up and tugged their two trunks inside after him, coming out swinging their own backpacks over their shoulders- Scott’s familiar brown Maverick one, and Isaac with one he must have borrowed from Melissa- and Chris shortly behind them to lock up the house.

Victoria nodded at them, and then started up the hill toward the Portkey, the four of them following Allison’s parents, who were each carrying backpacks of their own. 

“We’re lucky we didn’t get cheap tickets,” Allison said as they trudged up the hill on the corner of their property, “Otherwise we’d have had to arrive two weeks early,” she shuttered. “I couldn’t imagine living in that moor for two weeks.”

“Or the seats!” Professor Argent said from just ahead of them, “I remember when I was a kid and I went with my father, he didn’t bother getting good ones-” 

They continued climbing over the various hills- venturing out of Allison’s family property, and across towards the more dense greenery than what existed around the Argents’ home. After ten or so minutes, they reached the edge, and the group stopped. 

“What’s it look like?” Isaac asked, as they peered around the clearing. 

“It might be anything really- anything that looks out of place, like an old boot or-”

“A tire?” Isaac said, and Chris nodded. Isaac pointed to just across the clearing, where an old tire lay in the grass, weeds sprouting up around it.

“Good work, Isaac,” he said, and Isaac flushed. He wasn’t exactly used to adults praising him.

They all collected around the tire, and the six of them managed to find a place to touch, while tightly gripping the tire in a circle, “Two minutes to go,” Argent said, “Are we waiting for anyone?”

His wife shook her head, “The Cornetts are apparating in later on, and Mrs. Mayfield just had a baby, they aren’t coming this year.”

Suddenly, they were all pulled up by the Portkey- it was as though they were being lifted up by a hook, and being pulled forward into the air, and as he bumped shoulders with Scott and Allison, Stiles was drawn with the key through the whistling wind. Just as suddenly as it had started, they were all dropped to the ground, released by the tire, as the four tumbled down onto each other. As Chris caught Victoria, the group heard, “Six fifteen from clearing two in Yorkshire.”

\---

The ministry workers quickly sorted out the location of the group’s campsite as the four teenagers rolled the old tire into the pile of used Portkeys, and then they were off on the stretch of moor towards the campsite. The sun had started to rise and it cleared away some of the mist that had been present at the Argent household. When they reached the campsite, they met a muggle who was happy to take they money and mark down their name for one large tent in the midst of hundreds. As they headed through the crowed, the teenagers stared up in amazement at the wizards’ tents. Some looked rather normal and muggle, while others looked like they belonged to kings- striped in reds and golds. One had a full garden, complete with gnomes, and another was about three stories tall. Outside some of them were young witches and wizards, often with their parents striking up fires in greens or purples, one markedly yellow, matching the color of China’s team robes. 

When they finally reached the spot marked ‘Argent,’ they sat their stuff down and Victoria pulled out a tent- it seemed to look like a large muggle one, complete with a flap for a door, and was made of a very very light purple silk. She handed it to Allison and told them to make themselves useful as she and her husband studied the map they were given. 

After two and a half botched attempts, Allison took over and started directing them all, and finally, as the sun really began to rise, they had their tent. It may have been pretty on the outside, but it didn’t look nearly like it could hold six people- Stiles assumed it was enchanted to have enough space for them on the inside. He was proven right when they stepped inside to find a three bedroom flat, complete with kitchen and bathroom.

“Wow,” Scott said, “How does it do that?”

“Enlargement charm,” Victoria said on the way to one of the bedrooms, “Boys in the first left bedroom, Allison in the one closest to the door.”

\---

After they’d all settled in, they were free to explore the campsite, and the four of them went off in search of anyone they knew. Danny’s family had tickets and reserved a space much closer to the field, so the group spent the entire afternoon searching for it. They’d stopped for lunch at the tent of a pair of elderly sisters, who spend the entire meal cracking up about ‘how things were done in their day.’ Like the Argent family- as well as the three boys, who had mostly been converted by Mrs. Argent- the sisters supported Moldova, draping the flag over their door. 

Originally, it had seemed Fiji was the rising star for this year, but they were crushed by China in the semi-final. This placed them in the spot for the final next to Moldova, who’d defeated Egypt, despite the team’s winning the World Cup before last. 

Passing by, Stiles was pretty sure he saw his Astronomy teacher laughing with an African man around a kettle on the fire, and two rows down from them, Isaac swore he saw _the_ Harry Potter, but none of them could find their way back to confirm it. They passed by quite a few Chinese nationals’ tents on the edge of the field, and spotted whole groups of Moldovans by the water pumps. Finally, one of them spotted a tent with a Falmouth Falcons poster permanently stuck to it, and Allison was grinning, “That has to be Jackson’s dad’s tent!”

Approaching, they saw someone draw back one of the flaps of the tent and heard someone say, “Come on Jackson, it wasn’t _that_ bad!” stepping out of the tent, Danny and Jackson were met by the four of them, as Jackson said, “It _so_ was, asshole-” upon which Allison hugged Jackson so hard he nearly fell over.

“Allison!” 

\---

The rest of the day was spent catching up with Jackson- much to Stiles and Scott’s dismay- and occasionally greeting their schoolmates when one or two of them passed by- 7th year Margaret Henny, Clive Kerr, one of Stiles’ roommates, Emily West, one of Scott and Isaac’s fellow Hufflepuffs. 

On the way to the bathroom- really just an excuse to escape from Jackson, Stiles had been sending him death glares as he left- Scott was stopped by Kira Yukimura, who said, “Scott?”

Spotting her across the way, he grinned and jogged over. “Kira!” 

Standing next to her were two older people who looked a good bit like Kira, and she said, “Oh, Scott, these are my parents-” they smiled at him, “I didn’t know you’d be here!”

“Oh, yeah, Allison invited me,” he said, and she flushed a slight pink as her parents exchanged knowing glances, “Who are you guys supporting?”

“China, obviously,” Kira said.

“I thought you were-”

“Japanese? We are- well, my mom is, my dad is Korean, but I mean, you’re probably supporting Moldova, aren’t you?” 

Scott nodded, and then said, “Oh no, I’m sorry Kira, I’ve got to go, I left all my friends when I was supposed to go to the bathroom!”

She giggled, and waved, “Bye, Scott, see you at school!”

He waved and ran back to the group, dropping next to Stiles, who groaned as Jackson told Allison and Danny another story to make them laugh. Isaac was picking grass from the plot, looking mildly uncomfortable.

Finally, they had to part ways as ministry workers rushed around them, the air nearly thick with anticipation. Scott and Stiles were practically vibrating inside their tent, eager to start the game. Outside, salesmen were selling souvenirs- rosettes in red and yellow for Moldova and China respectively; flags that sang national anthems; little moving figurines of the team members, including the star player of the Chinese team, Wei Xun, and the Moldovan player Domneva, who never went by anything other than her last name. Allison’s mother forbade them from buying anything from any of them, saying they were ripoffs and cheats, and intimidated them all off of their property. But Allison snuck out when her dad was distracting her mother to buy them all rosettes and a flag that sang the teams’ national anthems with the money he’d given her.

Victoria was furious, but Allison pinned a red rosette to her robes anyway, as it shouted out the names of the players- Domneva, Albu, Ardelean, Hockley- and a short while later, a loud gong sounded, signaling the call to the stands. Red and yellow lanterns lit up on the edge of the woods, lighting the way. Victoria stood up, more excited than any of them, and said, “It’s started!” She turned to her daughter, then the boys, “Allison, do you have everything? Boys?” they all nodded, and followed her out. The excitement was infectious, and Stiles couldn’t stop grinning as the group walked among thousands towards the field.

“Wow, I can’t believe we’re really here!” Scott said. 

“Me either,” Stiles said, as the stadium came into view. He was awestruck- it was so large it looked like ten whole cathedrals could fit comfortably inside. 

“I’ve never seen so many wizards before,” Isaac said to Allison, and she nodded.

“It’s a bit overwhelming,” she agreed, but they couldn’t help be be amazed, and were joking and laughing along with the rest. 

As they neared the stadium gates, Mrs. Argent sighed. “There probably isn’t going to be anything exciting this year, like a beheading or setting the crowd on fire,” Mrs. Argent said, sighing, like it was the worst thing in the world.

Scott and Stiles exchanged looks, and Stiles mouthed, _beheading?_ But followed her up the lush purple steps anyway.

Putting her hands on her hips, Victoria said to their awestruck faces, “Seats one hundred thousand,” she said proudly, “The ministry worked on it for nearly a year- it’s full of muggle repelling charms.”

A moment later they reached the Ministry witch who checked their tickets, smiling, “Oh those are excellent seats- just a few rows below the top box seats, Victoria!” she said, and the two witches chatted for a moment before the flow of the crowd moved them along. They found themselves in a small box, two rows down from the highest seats, with two rows of ten gilded purple seats. Stiles filled in next to Allison and Scott, with Isaac at the end and the Argents on the other, as they all watched the crowed fill in. Soon enough in the very top boxes were the Minister of Magic and all the highest employees, and Allison pointed out Jackson and Danny taking seats in that box.

“Lucky bastard,” Scott mumbled.

“Language!” Mrs. Argent scolded. 

Finally, after nearly an hour, the game began. “Ladies and gentlemen…. welcome! Welcome to the final of the four-hundred and twenty-sixth Quidditch World Cup!”

\---

Allison’s mom proved to be the most passionate Quidditch fan Stiles had ever seen. She was screaming fouls, lighting up in cheers whenever they scored, and yelling at the ref more often than anyone else- she’d even taken her husband’s flag after a while and was waving it around her as the teams played on. It was Quidditch like Stiles had never seen before- this wasn’t the clumsy passing or the slow riding they’d seen at school- this was passing the Quaffle so quickly the announcer barely had time to even say their names. The game lasted until one in the morning- both teams at over a hundred points, but the Snitch hadn’t been seen in hours. At this point the ref called for a temporary time-out, and they decided the game would continue with the summoned substitutes.

However, the Argents had a different idea, “Alright, kids, time to go!” Chris said, and the sleepy eyes of four teenagers blinked up at him.

“What- no, the game isn’t over yet!” Scott said sleepily.

“What if they catch the Snitch while we’re sleeping?” Allison asked.

“Yeah,” Stiles said.

Chris shook his head, “The game will still be here when you wake up in the morning- the substitutes never finish the game.”

“I think I’m going to stay a little while longer,” Victoria said, “but you all need to go to bed, c’mon now,” she said, and they all rose reluctantly and followed Allison’s father out of the stadium, following hundreds of others who seemed to have the same idea- but there were still thousands in the stands cheering just as much as they had been hours before.

When they finally reached their tent, after nearly being run over several times by mobs of celebrating Chinese, who were currently up in points, they were all too excited to sleep, so Chris agreed to let them stay up for a little while longer. Stiles pulled out his set of wizards’ chess, and Allison loaned hers to Scott. Stiles tried to teach him to play with Allison’s borrowed family set- they didn’t trust him the slightest, and Stiles was still getting back into the hang of using his mom’s. After a while, Isaac fell asleep in his chair, and Allison was watching the game drowsily. Her father came by on his way to his own bedroom and kissed her head and said, "Get some sleep, sweetheart, you’ll want to be rested for tomorrow.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” she said sleepily, “I wanna see what happens.”

He smiled, and said, “Okay, but you’ll regret it in the morning.”

\---

The game lasted three days- nearly right up to the beginning of September. They still had a few days, but Scott and Stiles were beginning to worry they wouldn’t see the end of the game before having to go back to school, when Domneva snatched the Snitch right from the extended hand of the Chinese seeker, Tai Liu, who broke his broom in half in frustration. Moldova won with an outstanding 750 points, China coming behind them with a total of 640. Allison’s mom said it was “by far the best Quidditch produced in centuries!” and Stiles really had to agree with her- he could only hope to play like that someday.  

They were soon caught up in the crowd leaving the stadium and heading back towards the campsite. People were singing the national song of Moldova, their mascots parading around victoriously. On the path back to the campsites, Chris chuckled, “At least this game only lasted three days, I once went to a game that lasted two weeks and I had to leave in order to make it to school on time.”

“That would have been awesome,” Scott said dreamily.

Passing by one of the retreating vendors, Stiles ran over to him and asked for a poster of the entire Moldova team, and one of just Gregor Albu- now _that_ was a Beater Stiles aspired to be, he’d knocked one of the other Beaters straight into the stands. “Two galleons,” the man said.

“What? They were ten sickles before the game!” Stiles said. 

“The price of winning. Look kid, ya gonna buy or not? I only have a couple posters left-”

“Yeah yeah,” Stiles said, and shoved the money at him, taking the two folded up posters and hurried back to Scott. 

“Lemmie see!” 

\---

The following morning they packed up their supplies in good spirits and made their way down to the queue for returning home. They took an old newspaper back to the clearing in Yorkshire, and then everyone tugged their things back to the Argent household, where Mrs. Argent dropped off her things and then apparated to work- she’d taken the previous days off for the tournament- while the four of them tried to replicate the game they’d just witnessed on Allison’s family brooms. 

\---

September the first was its usual affair- books were packed, parchment was stored, robes were folded, and brooms were stuffed back into the bottom of trunks- and it was raining. The four kids were awoken by Mrs. Argent, the three boys sharing the guest room, and Allison in her own. They stumbled down to breakfast, laughing whel Isaac fell asleep in his porridge and splattered it all over Allison’s hair and face. 

When they all collected outside, they realized it had started to rain, as an unmarked car pulled up to the property.

The Argents, like every other wizarding family in the world, didn’t actually own a car. They usually took the Floo Network everywhere they went, or rode broomsticks, or in the case of Mr. and Mrs. Argent, apparated everywhere. Cars were really unnecessary with that kind of instant transportation, so Mrs. Argent requisitioned a ministry car for the five of of them. Professor Argent had left by other means the day before, in order to help prepare for the incoming students. 

Soon enough they were all bundled up in the car- which shouldn’t have been strictly possible for the size of muggle automobiles, and their trunks somehow magically all fitting in the trunk- for a two hour car ride to the station. When they finally arrived, they got soaked as they stepped out onto the pavement. Once inside and past the barrier, Allison’s mother conjured them a quick-drying spell, and Scott said, “Thanks, Mrs. Argent. For the tickets and the trip and, uh, the drying spell.”

She smiled, and said, “You’re all welcome,” as they nodded along.

Stiles said to Allison, “We’re gonna go ahead and get onboard, wouldn’t want anyone to get our compartment. So you can say bye to your mom,” Allison nodded, as the three of them helped with pushing their heavy trunks into the train. 

Allison spent a few minuted on the platform saying goodbye before heading over to them, at which point Victoria called out, “Have a good term!”

“We will!” Allison called back, waving. If anything, the term was likely to be incredibly boring, after the summer they’d had. 

Once they claimed their usual compartment, trunks massing overhead and cages rattling at feet, Stiles noticed that the group seemed in excellent spirits, Isaac looking happier than Stiles had ever seen. Much different than the way he’d stormed off a week ago, which was mostly forgotten anyway.

Allison had barely begun to lift her owl’s cage onto the overhead racks when the door slid open and Lydia stepped in in a short skirt and trunk in hand. Allison finished pushing Colly up and turned to Lydia, saying, “Lydia!” before hugging her- the girls hadn’t had a chance to see each other all summer. Stiles stood up too and held out his own arms, but she rolled her eyes and stepped around him, sitting next to the slouching Isaac. 

Danny showed up a few minutes later clutching school books and homework stuffed between the pages, Jackson the Rat perched on his shoulders. Erics and Boyd nearly came late, rushing onto the train at the last minute, only moments before the whistle, and collapsing onto the seats. 

Erica groaned, and Boyd huffed out, “We just got back from Aunt Mildred’s- we drove all night just to make it.”

Danny asked, "How was the trip?" 

They groaned collectively and Boyd said, "Awful," and the same time Erica said, “The worst,” before dropping her head on Boyd’s shoulder.

"We should have just gone with you," she said. 

As the train headed further north, the rain cleared up, but the sky continued to get darker and darker as the night pressed on. Around the time the lanterns on the train lit up, Scott and Stiles decided they should actually get some homework done- rather than discuss how much they dreaded for essays and exams to start up again- so they and Danny copied the last of the homework from Lydia. 

Danny said, "It was great seeing Jackson- I miss him, and I mean, I write him every day, but it's not the same, you know? And they didn’t have _any_ homework over the summer-”

\---

As they arrived at Hogsmeade station, they saw that the rain had cleared up and the sky was filled with stars, not a cloud in sight. They stumbled out of the train, waving hello to Deaton, before piling into their usual two carriages and heading up to Hogwarts. 

Past the gates and up the winding road the procession went, and when they reached the marble staircase, the doors opened and the students flooded out and up into the Great Hall. The Great Hall, like usual, was decorated with gleaming golden plates, lit candles floating through the air, and chattering students at all the tables. Allison, Stiles, and Boyd all went in the direction of their usual seats, passing Alicia, who was sitting with a couple of other second years. 

“I hope the sorting is over quickly,” Boyd said, yawning, “I’m exhausted. We hardly got any sleep in the car. Well, I didn’t. Erica fell asleep on my shoulder, and Seline fell asleep on her…” 

Allison asked, “We don’t know anyone being sorted this year, do we? No one else has any siblings to be sorted.”

Stiles shook his head, “It doesn’t look like this year is going to be very eventful…” 

The long line of curious and terrified first years were then marched into the hall, and sorting began. From what he’d seen, fourth year started out really actually boring. It was the same old Hogwarts that they knew and loved, but that was the _problem._ Stiles wanted something different. Something exciting. But, as they say, be careful what you wish for…

\---

After the feast, everyone tiredly made their way up to their respective dorms, Allison yawning the password, “Flamel,” at the fat lady, bidding them adieu as she trudged up the girl’s staircase. Boyd and Stiles climbed up to their own room, the former collapsing on his own bed before even changing out of his robes. Before Stiles headed to bed, he wanted to unpack a few things, so he opened his trunk and tossed out nearly everything before pulling out his poster of Gregor Albu, and tacked it to the wall over his bedside table.

A few beds down, Stiles noticed Clive had similarly tacked a rosary from the World Cup to his headboard, as Clive himself was stripping off his shirt tiredly. The rest of their roommates were already in bed, snoring like Boyd.

\---

With the next morning came the mail delivery and schedules. No one from their end of the table had anything, but it didn’t really matter; they were busy checking their schedules, but it wasn’t as though much had really changed. They still had Defense Against the Dark Arts with Allison’s dad and the Hufflepuffs that morning, so when they were done with cornflakes and black pudding, they headed back up to the dorms to hang around during their free period until class started.

Finally, Stiles met up with Scott, and the two of them headed up to the classroom. However, Professor Argent must have been running late, as he wasn’t in the classroom when they’d arrived, and he still wasn’t there ten minutes after. They knew he was at the school, since they’d seen him the previous night at the feast and then again at breakfast, and none of them could imagine what was keeping him.

The class, for the most part, was sitting around chatting, Scott with Emily and Isaac near the back, as Kira and a couple of the Gryffindors practiced their first magic since that previous year. Stiles, however, was sitting at his desk near the front of the room and looking at the weapons all around the room, which had been there since first year. There were broad swords and rapiers, crossbows with silver-tipped arrows, and all other manners of less-than-magical weapons used to rid the word of supernatural creatures. They’d never seemed out of place among the suits of armor in the halls, the iron chandelier on the ceiling which hung next to the dragon skeleton, and the magic-activated projector. 

He’d been so absorbed with looking at the weapons that he didn’t notice Allison sit beside him until she said, “I can use those, you know,” nodding towards the direction of the bows. “My dad wanted to make sure I could defend myself in case spells didn’t work- he was an auror before he became a professor. Hunting has been in my family for generations,” she said sadly, and Stiles thought she might be thinking of Kate. She laughed a bit, but it was slightly bitter, “Our family code is ‘Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-mémes,’ We protect-”

“-those who cannot protect themselves.” Stiles finished for her, and she smiled at him. He smiled back. She was the reason he could translate that, and he figured he was probably one of the reasons she was okay after Kate. 

Just then, the sound of the door opening echoed around the room, and they all turned to see Professor Argent stride in. He tapped the projector as he passed, the Argent family bestiary tucked under one arm. He smiled to the class and Allison stood up, touching Stiles’ shoulder briefly as she turned to her own seat, and Scott sat down where she’d been sitting.

“Sorry for the delay,” Professor Argent said, “Professor Deaton was having a little trouble that required my attention,” he held up the bestiary, which he’d told them all about in one lesson back in first year, before dropping it down on his desk. “Now, who knows anything about countercurses?”

\---

Herbology, two periods later, had the entire class gagging. Professor Hale was rolling his eyes at the students as he instructed them, “These plants are called Bubotubors,” they looked like giant black slugs protruding out of the soil, which rather fascinated Stiles, actually, until he heard what followed: “The care isn’t particularly difficult, but today you’ll be collecting the pus.” Another round of gagging followed, “It’s rather valuable, and Madam Morrell won’t be particularly happy if any of you lose any,” he clapped his hands, “Wear your dragon-hide gloves! The bubotubor pus can do strange things undiluted, and we don’t want a repeat of last year. Good luck!” he said, oddly cheerful. 

Pulling on their gloves, and grumbling the whole time, they started on popping the swellings on each of the Bubotubors within reach. They worked in teams to catch the petrol-smelling, greenish-yellow pus in bottles like instructed, and by the end of the class they had collected several pints.

A booming bell echoed across the campus, signaling the end of the lesson and the start of lunch. Stepping out of the warm greenhouses had them assaulted with bright sunlight and cool fall air. 

\---

The next morning, after breakfast, Stiles and Boyd met up with their two Hufflepuff friends, and the four of them headed down to their morning Care of Magical Creatures lesson with Deaton. Luckily, they weren’t required to bring their Monster Books that morning. However, like the previous morning, they were met with another unpleasant sight. 

“Good morning, everyone,” Deaton said, smiling at all of them, also unusually cheerful, “today, everyone will get their own Blast-Ended Skrewt.”

“The whats?” Isaac said, and Deaton pointed to the cages at his feet, and Isaac suddenly wished he hadn’t asked. The were pale and slimy, looking like deformed lobsters with no head in sight. They all crawled blindly around the cages, all several hundred of them, occasionally being propelled by shots of sparks from the rear-ends, and, disgustingly, they smelled like rotten fish, on top of all of that. 

“I’m not sure I want one of those,” Boyd said to his friends.

“I do!” Scott said. “Why couldn’t I have gotten one of these instead of Todd?”

“Now,” Deaton said, “they’ve only just hatched, so you’ll be able to raise them yourselves, it will be a year-long project. Today we’ll be feeding them- frog livers and bits of grass snake, it really isn’t that different from Potions- be careful, the males have stingers! The females have suckers, so if anything looks suspiciously interested in your hand, remove it.” Several students had taken a step back, but Scott still looked interested. 

The rest of the lesson progressed carefully, leading to only a few burns and stings, Scott receiving two of the former. He was still smiling as he swung his legs off the side of the bed in the infirmary, as Scott and Stiles waited on one of the nurses to be free- Professor Deaton had sent them to see his sister after the second burn. Finally, Madam Morrell herself came out, sighing as she saw her brother’s handiwork. 

\---

The following Wednesday came with a rather interesting Charms lesson. In an effort to perform the spell they were reviewing, Braeden picked up what she thought was her wand, and going to wave it, found it was a joke wand which turned into a giant squeaky mouse. The transformation mader her cry out, and the people around laugh. She took her revenge by hitting them with one of the jinxes she’d learned over the summer, laughing as several people clutched their throats with their tongues glued to the top of their mouths. 

\---

On Thursday they had their second Transfiguration lesson for the year, which ended with a large amount of groaning from the class when Professor Vanity assigned the homework. “Oh no, don’t you start with that!” she said. “Your O.W.L.s are just around the corner! You’ll be hitting yourself when fifth year rolls around and you haven’t even begun to study for them!”

Erica looked up from her hedgehog/pincushion (which had more spikes than pins at this point) for the first time that lesson, and said, “What are O.W.L.s?” 

Professor Vanity shook her head, sighing, “Ordinary Wizarding Levels,” she said, “You all have a long way to go…”

\---

The first month passed with relative ease. Homework wasn’t light, and Lydia had taken to studying in the library every afternoon in light of Professor Vanity’s warning. Stiles was just enjoying the early-fall coolness, and spent most of his afternoons in the sun with Scott, and occasionally Boyd and the Giant Squid. The three of them were laying on the grass in front of the black lake, history textbooks all strewn out around them as they worked upon their third essay on the goblin rebellions of the eighteenth century for History of Magic, which were weekly and horrible.

“I’m running out of things to say,” Stiles said, chewing on the end of his quill, before pulling out out of his mouth and making a face at the ink spot staining his tongue. “I’ve already written about Urg the Unclean being dunked in the pond three different ways.”

“Do you have what’s on his chocolate frog card?” Scott asked, “I think I have it around here somewhere… ah, here it is!” Scott said, pulling it out from where it was being used as a placeholder in _A History of Magic,_ and handing it to Stiles.

“Nope, gimmie,” he said, taking it and scribbling down the last of the information.

Boyd rolled his eyes, “If you need more stuff, just ask Erica, she’s got enough off the top of her head to fill thirty essays.”

“Speaking of Slytherins…” Scott said, “I think Professor Harris is planning on poisoning me. He keeps hinting that our antidotes better work, and it’s getting creepy,” he said, shuttering. 

“Think that’s bad? I haven’t even started on the three books Kettlewig is having us read!” Boyd said.

“They’re not that bad,” Stiles said offhandedly, quill on his lips again, “they’re just kinda long. I read them a week ago.” He was still staring at the parchment, unsure of where to go next, “Oh, and are you guys going to Deaton’s hut tonight to observe the Skrewts? Isaac went on Saturday, but I didn’t have time.”

Scott groaned and rolled over, watching the clouds roll by, “I completely forgot about that. Sure I’ll come, but you might have to come get me.”

\---

The last week of September had the fourth year Herbology classes pouring over the pages of the _Encyclopedia of Toadstools_ as they observed leaping toadstools in a greater depth than in second year, and tried to tell the differences between them and normal fat red toadstools. Professor Hale was going over the lesson plan, but it seemed that no one was paying attention. He sighed, and said, “Whatever, it’s not like any of you care.” He shook his head, and sat down with the Daily Prophet he’d received that morning at breakfast. 

Lydia, however, was paying attention. “Well, _I_ care,” she said, offended. “Allison?” she said.

Allison’s head jerked up from where she and Stiles were crouched in front of one of the leaping toadstools, waiting for it to jump, and said, “What?”

“I want to hear the rest of the lesson. Coming?” 

“Right,” Allison said, standing up. “Hold this,” she said, shoving her textbook at Stiles.

Professor Hale, who was sitting in the back of the greenhouse, looked up from the newspaper when the girls approached, “The hunter and the banshee. What can I do for you?”

Lydia stared, a little taken aback, and said, “What, you heard?” 

Peter said, “Oh sweetheart, everybody heard.” Turning to Allison, he smiled, and said, “You look like your dear aunt Kate.” And smiling again, “Don’t look so offended, I look like all of my dead relatives."

\---

Before they knew it, it was the Saturday of Quidditch trials again. Stiles had been pulled down earlier by Marcus to help set up, so Boyd was alone in the dorms when Erica came storming up. She was wearing what looked like workout clothes, and was holding one of the school brooms. Boyd raised an eyebrow when he looked her over.

“I’m trying out for the Slytherin team,” she told him. “I’m tired of them losing all the time. It’s time I take matters into my own hands.”

“I hope you make the team,” he said, but she was still staring at him expectantly. “What?”

“You should come with me,” Erica said, “and try out for Gryffindor. I hear that the Keeper graduated last year.”

And since it was Erica… “I’d have to change. And get a broom, I don’t have one.”

“No problem, I went down there this morning to get this one, and hid another behind the shed. I don’t mind waiting,” she said. And he looked at her expectantly, “Oh, fine,” she said, and turned around in the doorway, hands on her hips. Ten minutes later the two of them were heading down to the pitch, which was just about to start with the Slytherins. 

Erica waved to Boyd, “I hope you make it!” and headed off in the direction of her house. Boyd turned towards his own housemates and the Quidditch team, which now only consisted of Stiles, Marcus, Cooper, Ana and Malia. 

When Stiles spotted him, he said, “You’re trying out?”

“Yeah, Erica wanted me to come.”

“Awesome!” Stiles turned to the team captain, Marcus, and asked, “Are we trying out again?” referring to his summoned team mates, who were milling around while they waited their turn. 

Marcus waved him off, and said, “You’re fine, Stiles, I just want the whole team here to help decide.”

An hour later, the Gryffindor team was landing on the field, handing off the field to Hufflepuff, and Marcus was shaking hands with the two newest members of the team- Braeden had successfully campaigned for Chaser, and Boyd had beat all of the others at Keeping by a longshot. 

Erica squealed when Boyd landed on the ground, and she threw her arms around his neck, and yelled, “I made the team!” Stiles left before he could hear any more of what followed. 

Breakfast the next morning was an unusual affair. As soon as the owls swooped in to deliver mail, people started pointing at the seven delivery owls that came in with everyone’s personal ones. Each of them was carrying a distinct broom-shaped package in their talons, wrapped in brown paper and string. The great hall was amazed when the owls headed, not to the Slytherin table like one would have expected, but instead to the Hufflepuff table, and the packages were dropped in front of all seven members of the Hufflepuff team- including Scott and Isaac.

They all watched as they started pulling packages open, and pulled out their new brooms- Firebolts. They weren’t as new as Stiles’ Nimbus 3000, but they were certainly better; really in a class all their own. Stiles ducked out from his seat and dropped in beside Scott at the Hufflepuff table, as he and Isaac- who was sitting across from them- stared in awe of their new broomsticks.

“Wow,” Stiles said, “how’d you guys get them? Can I hold it?” as Scott lifted his broom gingerly out of the packaging. 

Scott nodded, almost in a daze, and said, “Lacey Greenhorn became our new Chaser yesterday, and she told us her dad owned a Quidditch shop in Wales but we didn’t think she was serious…”

“Wow,” Stiles said, marveling at the magnificence of the broom, “You don’t think she got on the team because she had money, do you?”

Scott shook his head, “Nah, we had no idea she had any money till we all got brooms- she never even said she wanted to try out till now!”

Stiles looked up from the broom to Isaac, who was still staring at his new broom, “I never thought I’d…”

“Get one?” Stiles said, and Isaac nodded.

“They’re so expensive, my dad would never ever buy me one.”

Scott nodded, “Yeah, my mom either. Oh yeah, Stiles, you can have your old broom back!"

\---

The next week clubs resumed for the year, with an influx of new members. Isaac and Danny were complaining about how all the new rats in Rat Race club were younger and how it wasn’t fair Jackson the rat had to go up against all of them even though he was nearly five, and Allison had to wince at the sound of first years butchering the language every time she and Stiles went up to French club. 

On Friday, Stiles yawned as he and Scott headed to Defense Against the Dark Arts from Potions- he’d been woken up at six by Marcus and dragged down to the pitch to help train their two newest team members, so he’d missed breakfast and barely made it to Potions earlier- and it was the second time that week, too!

“I think we should join Dueling club,” Stiles said, as they traveled down the hallway.

“Why?” 

“Well, if I’m going to be an auror, then I’m going to have to know how to duel! Plus, I wanna actually be able to use some of the stuff we’ve learned."

“I do really wanna try that countercurse we learned in Defense Against the Dark Arts. When’s the next meeting?” Scott asked.

“Thursday, I think. I’ll have to check the parchment on the noticeboard to be sure.”

“Okay, lets go!” Scott said cheerfully, and the two of them picked up the pace as they ran to class in order not to be late.

\---

On Saturday morning, Stiles collapsed on his bed, sweaty and exhausted from practice that morning. He guessed Boyd had gone right to the showers, but he’d wanted to get a change of clothes first. Getting up, he grabbed a pair of jeans, a shirt, and a towel, and headed down to the baths. On the way back, Stiles ran into Scott, whose face lit up when he saw him, and said, “Stiles! I’ve been looking for you!”

“Oh hey Scott,” he said, and Scott joined him on the walk back to the Gryffindor common room.

“Okay so you know how the first Hogsmeade trip is in two weeks?” Stiles nodded, so Scott continued, “I’m gonna ask Allison to go with me. If it’s okay with you.”

“Yeah sure, why wouldn’t it be?” Stiles said, as they climbed the moving staircase, nearly reaching the dormitory door.

“I mean, I’m going to ask her, like, as a date,” Scott mumbled.

“ _Oh._ Yeah, I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

“Are you sure? What if she likes someone else, or-”

“Scott,” he said, pausing at the portrait of the fat lady, mumbling, “Expelliarmus. Stop it. She likes you, I’m sure of it. Go ask her out.”

“Okay, I’m gonna do it.”

The fat lady frowned, eyeing Scott’s yellow Hufflepuff robes, but she swung open anyway, letting the two of them enter. Stiles spotted Allison’s dark head of hair immediately, from where she was sitting on one of the plush couches in front of the fire, working on homework. “There she is- go get her!” Stiles said, pushing a grinning Scott in her direction, Stiles rolling his eyes as Scott stumbled towards her. Heading up to his own dorm, Stiles mumbled to himself, “Wow, I need a date.”

Scott sat next to Allison on the couch, and she looked up and smiled, “Hi Scott.” 

They were alone, so Scott took a deep breath, and said, “Do you wanna, maybe, go out with me sometime?”

Allison’s smile only got brighter, brushing a piece of hair out of her face, “Of course!”

Scott grinned dopily, and said, “What about the first Hogsmeade trip of the year? We can go to the tea shop- Emily said it was really good- or, um-”

“Sure, Scott,” she said, “I don’t really care where we go, as long as it’s with you.”

Stiles noted how they were insufferable for the following few days, and Scott couldn’t be seen without that dopey smile for the entire time.

\---

Stiles was falling asleep in the middle of _another_ lecture on the goblin rebellions, when he sat up and rubbed his eyes, and began trying to keep himself awake by watching other people around the room. Gregor from Slytherin was flicking wads of paper through Professor Binns, who didn’t seem to notice- or care. Clive wasn’t even bothering to try to stay awake, and was snoring loudly at the back of the room. Erica and Boyd were across the classroom from him- he’d gotten there late, hoping he’d be hit by a wayward spell and knocked out for a few hours, rather than have to go that class, but unfortunately all his dragging his feet had gotten him was a stern talking-to by the professor. 

Erica was picking at her nails, leaning back with her feet propped up on the desk in front of her, her Quick-Quotes Quill taking notes for her. Boyd was leaning on his hand, staring at her; Stiles wasn’t sure if she’d noticed, or cared, either. She’d started wearing her shirt unbuttoned a few buttons to show off her newly-formed cleavage, and pretty much ignored anyone who told her to button them up and fix her tie. It was getting her attention from some of the other boys, and she laughed at it, and reveled in the attention, but never had eyes for any of them.

\---

The next Thursday, after dinner, Scott and Stiles headed back to the Great Hall at eight o’clock, from where they were hanging out in the Hufflepuff common room, along with several others from Scott’s house. When they arrived in the Great Hall, they saw the long tables had vanished and been replaced by a long golden stage along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. Surprisingly, most of the school had shown up, and were all carrying their wands and looking ready to duel.

There were several teachers there- the head of the club, of course, was Allison’s dad, and Professors Kapur and Coach Finstock were back there too. Madam Morrell also always went, as the head nurse, and Professor Hale was just one of the teachers that sometimes hung out there- probably because he enjoys watching children get beat up, Stiles thought. He was pretty sure Professor Hale gets off on threatening children.

Scott and Stiles approached the golden stage, getting up close in the crowd, waiting for it to start. Scott said, “I wonder if Hale will show us anything- I hear he was number one dueller when he went here, I remember his name on a trophy from one of the times I was assigned to shine the trophy room during detention.”

“I guess it’ll probably be Allison’s dad, he is the head of the club,” Stiles added. “Oh yeah there he is-” 

Professor Argent had climbed up on the stage, and waved a hand for silence. “Can everyone hear me? Good- alright, everyone, welcome to the second dueling club meeting of the year!” the room clapped, and he raised his hand again. “This club was, of course, began to show you the practical application of my teachings. Today, Professor Kapur has agreed to assist me in the demonstration- Professor?” he said, and offered her a hand up on stage, her brilliant red and gold stitched robes billowing out behind her as she took it and stepped up on the stage. Several people clapped, including Professor Hale, who had an almost malicious grin on his face. Stiles was suddenly glad that Peter hadn’t been the one to assist the deputy headmaster that evening.

The two of them faced each other, and bowed, raising their wands like swords. “On the count of three, we’ll begin. One- two- three-” and they were off.

Kapur yelled out, “ _Expelliarmus_!” 

But it was deflected by one of the countercurses the professor had shown them earlier that month, and he yelled out, “ _Cantis_!” and it seemed they weren’t being very serious, because the spell simply caused the Arithmancy teacher to burst into uncontrollable song, making her sing all spells for the remainder of the duel. The duel ended with Kapur eventually administering a successful disarming charm on the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

“Thank you, Billy,” Professor Argent said, as one of the first years ran back to the stage having fetched Argent’s wand. “Time for you all to start! Pair up and begin!” 

Stiles immediately grabbed Scott, “You’re mine.”

Scott laughed, “Who’s else would I be?”

“I dunno, but that big seventh year Slytherin was eyeing you from across the room.”

He laughed again, “Sure, Stiles.”

“Face your partners!” Argent commanded, “And bow! Wands at the ready, and… begin!”

Around them Bat Bogies Hexes were flying, one Ducklifors Jinx hit a girl to Stiles’ right, a first year ducked an _expelliarmus_ aimed her way. A pair of twins dueling in the corner of the room duplicated themselves so many times they couldn’t tell who was actually who anymore, and were casting them at all of the clones. 

Scott grinned as he casted his first spell- he wasn’t pulling any punches, “ _Flipendo tria_!” he yelled pointing at Stiles, as a miniature tornado came at him. Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles could see Kira waving around her sparking wand, Isaac running for cover. 

Stiles blocked it with a quick, “ _Protego_!” (Stiles was good at shield charms, like really good) and called up a smokescreen with, “ _Fumas_!” giving him time to cast “ _Herbifors_ ,” which caused flowers to sprout from Scott, who yelped, as he didn’t see the spell coming through the smoke. Next to Scott a boy was hit with a freezing spell, turning to solid ice. His partner ran up and unfroze him, apologizing profusely.

Flowers waving, Scott cast a disarming charm, but Stiles blocked it again, and tried to cast an _Incarcerous_ charm, but it was again blocked by a shielding charm. Stiles, trying to get the upperhand, was about to cast the _Anteoculatia_ hex- which should have made Scott grown horns or antlers- when Scott yelled, “ _Locomotor Wibbly_!”

And with half the hex already out of his mouth, Stiles legs turned to jelly, and he fell, arms flailing, yelling, “ _Ante_ AHHH!” and the spell cast- but hitting an unsuspecting teacher, Peter Hale. Peter yelled out, and crumpled to the ground as his features started to disfigure. After a moment he stopped clutching his face, and clumsily stood up. Peter looked down at his body with a look of horror, everyone stopping their spell casting to gape at him. Stiles gasped. Professor Hale hadn’t grown antlers. He looked like a sixteen year old boy. 

Stiles noted, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he looked remarkably like his nephew, Derek, only with a little bit longer face, and a sharper jaw. But he had the same dark hair and his eyes, and oh shit he accidentally hexed a teacher. 

Those who weren't staring at Peter were looking at Stiles- who was still on the floor with jelly-like legs- in horror. Madam Morrell, who’d been supervising with several other teachers stood up and hurried over to Peter, and put her arm around his shoulders, and said firmly, “We’re going to the infirmary, Peter. We’ll fix this immediately.” She shot a look back at Professor Argent, who nodded at her, and stood up on the platform, clearing his throat.

“Listen up, everyone. Today’s Dueling Club has been cancelled. Don’t worry,” he said, when a load stream of groans comes from the student body, “We’ll be back next thursday. Everyone reverse your charms and head back to the dorms.” The students were all nodding, although someone next to Stiles was attempting to pull a pumpkin off their head in order to hear. Professor Argent hopped down and strode over to Scott and Stiles, the former clumsily attempting to reverse his jinx. After a moment he got it, and when the deputy headmaster reached them, they looked up, and winced. He was frowning. 

“We aren’t going to be expelled, are we? It was an accident!” Scott said nervously.

Argent sighed, and shook his head, “No, Scott, you aren’t going to be expelled. However, the both of you need to follow me to my office.” He turned his back to them, and they glanced at each other and followed him back to Gryffindor tower. When they passed students, they all whispered to themselves and stared.

“Probably wondering if we’ve been expelled,” Stiles muttered. “Well we haven’t!” he said a little louder, and Scott shushed him. As they stepped into the office, Argent sat down behind his desk, and he gestured to the seats across from him. When they sat down, he flicked his wand and the door slammed shut behind him. Stiles flinched.

“Now, tell me what happened,” Professor Argent said expectantly.  
  
"We, um, accidentally, uh, hexed Professor Hale." 

The two of them spent the next five minutes explaining in detail all of the spells they’d done, and after they finished, Scott asked, “Are we in trouble?” 

Argent sighed, and said, “Yes. But this was clearly an accident, and you won’t be getting a detention- however, as punishment, the two of you will be missing the first Hogsmeade trip.”

The two of them break out in groans as they were dismissed, exiting the office with slumped shoulders. Allison, who was waiting outside the door, said, “I heard you guys had an interesting time at dueling club.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Stiles said, and the two of them explained again. 

Allison patted their shoulders, and told them, “You’ll come to the next one.”

“That’s a whole month from now!” Stiles said, as Scott groaned, “But what about our date?” 

Allison smiled good-naturedly, and said, “Well, we can do something else instead!”

\---

The next day, Stiles showed up to Herbology expecting to see his Herbology teacher back to his normal older self, but when he arrived, students were staring at the back of the classroom at an almost irate looking Professor Hale. 

Peter- younger looking Peter- sighed as he stood up in front of the class, “As some of you may know,” -by the time Stiles had gone to bed, the gossip had spread across the entire school- “a certain pair of students hexed me last night at duel club, with some spell of their own invention, and turned me into this,” he gestured to his body, but he didn’t really seem angry, “and Madam Morell has been unable to provide a timeline as to when I am expected to look my own age. _However_ , despite this form, I am _still_ your teacher, and expect to be treated as such.”

It seemed really strange at first, for them to be taught by someone who looked like a sixth year, but by the end of the lesson they were all used to it, and calling him by his proper title and raising their hands as such. 

\---

The ‘something else’ Allison promised Scott for their date turned out to be ‘exploring the woods’ surrounding the castle. Upon hearing that they couldn’t go to Hogsmeade, Allison had decided to skip the first trip to Hogsmeade as well. Allison had appeared from her dorms wearing warm clothing, and with Lydia in tow. 

Lydia, however, didn’t look dressed to be exploring anything. Her arms were crossed when the two of them met up with the rest of their friends in the Gryffindor common room. Allison turned to Stiles, and said, “Since I’m not going, apparently Lydia isn’t either.”

Boyd and Erica, who were hanging off one couch by the exit, looked up and said, “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” 

Allison nodded, “It’s not the same without them.” 

Boyd said, “We’ll see you later, then?” and the two of them left with Isaac, who wasn’t banned from going, because apparently he had enough sense not to be paired with his best friend/partner in crime.

Scott finally showed up, and met Allison’s eyes, and they were gone before Stiles could blink- all smiles and handholding as they stumbled out of the common room and out of the castle. Stiles was then left with Lydia, who said, “Which one is yours?” and when he looked confused, she said, “Your dorm. Which one is it?” Stiles pointed up towards the boy’s area. Lydia turned and headed in that direction, and when Stiles didn’t follow, she said, “Well, aren’t you coming?” and he stumbled after her.

The two of them spent most of the morning there, hanging out, because for some reason, Lydia didn’t seem to have anything better to do. After lunch, Scott came barreling into Stiles’ room grinning, blurted, “I kissed her!” 

Lydia looked up, hoisting herself off Stiles’ bed, saying, “Allison’s probably looking for me, then. Later, Stiles.” Stiles waved, and then turned his attention to Scott. Grinning, Scott collapsed in her place. 

\---

That night was Mischief night, and as usual, the boys wouldn’t miss out on it. Scott was down on the third floor convincing all the paintings to sing muggle Christmas carols- insisting it was a nice muggle tradition to sing them on Halloween- while Stiles was up on the seventh floor setting off about a hundred dungbombs- they’d been on sale in preparation for Mischief Night. Stiles had left his robes upstairs in his room, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

He had a clamp on his nose so he couldn’t smell anything, and was wearing his dragon hide gloves, so his hands wouldn’t smell of dungbomb in the morning (although the halls certainly would), as he set off the last of the bombs in the last corridor. With only a few left in his bag, Stiles turned, and spotted- Lydia, wandering the halls. The first thing he noticed about her- besides her being in pajamas- was the fact she didn’t seem at all dazed by the putrid smell. In fact, it was almost like she couldn’t smell it at all. 

He called out to her, and said, "Lydia! I didn't know you did mischief night!"

She turned to the source of the voice, but she looked confused, like she didn’t know what he was talking about. He hurried over to her, and she said, “I thought someone was calling my name-”

“I was? Lydia, are you alright?” 

“No, someone else…” she said, and wandered off down the hallway before he could call her name again.

\---

The next morning, he grabbed Lydia before she had a chance to sit down at breakfast. “Hey, Lydia, what was up with last night?”

She frowned, and shrugged him off, “I was probably sleepwalking.”

He frowned at her, “Are you sure? Because I sleepwalk, and that didn’t really look like sleepwalking.”

“I’m fine, Stiles,” she said, “Go eat breakfast.”

\---

Three days into November, Stiles, Allison, and Scott were sitting in Defense Against Dark Arts well after the bell had rung, and they’d been released to their next class. Well, Stiles and Allison were sitting in the classroom, Scott had been called into Professor Argent’s office over twenty minutes before, and they were getting rather worried about him. 

The two of them were sitting atop the desks, contemplating how much trouble they’d be in from Professor Hale when they finally showed up for his classes, when finally the office at the top of the stairs spit Scott back out. He stumbled down the winding staircase, and said, “He knows we’re dating. I think your dad tried to intimidate me. It worked.” Allison and Stiles just laughed at his pain.

\---

Care of Magical Creatures on Thursday might have been the worst they’d seen all year. It was particularly disheartening that Deaton was smiling the entire time he brought out the Blast-Ended Skrewts. They’d been killing each other with all their pent-up energy, now that they were about three feet long. The remaining ones had all been separated into separate cages, which were each placed at their individual feet. Stiles and Scott were both crouched in front of their cages, and were attempting to poke them with blades of grass when Deaton spoke.

“Due to their pent up energy, I think the best thing to be done would be to take them on a short walk around the grounds.”

“A _what_?” Isaac said. 

Deaton smiled, much to the class’ horror, and said, “Everyone will need to fix a leash on a skrewt and take it for a walk. Just like this-” he said, and fixed the leash around the middle of one of them. “Now go on, you try it. And don’t forget to wear your dragonhide gloves!” 

The class eyed the skrewts, and several people attempted to reach around the big, grayish giant scorpion/elongated crab looking thing, only to discover that it worked better with a partner. Scott and Stiles took to tackling Stiles’, manhandling it so it had nowhere to go, and then finally got it around the thing before attempting Scott’s- which was a mean little sucker. 

Boyd and Isaac were still working on Boyd’s when they were tugged off. Several minutes later, off in the distance, Stiles heard what vaguely sounded like Isaac screaming and being dragged around on his stomach, his skrewt’s end having exploded with a loud bang, propelling it forward several years. 

When they’d finally all collected back at Deaton’s hut, several people covered in dirt and scrapes, looking rather grumpy- like Isaac- or like Scott, with various parts of their body singed, but looking happy with themselves, like surviving in itself was an accomplishment. Anthea Skye, one of the Ravenclaws, had her arms crossed, and her skrewt was nowhere in sight. 

\---

The day before the first Quidditch match of the year, Professor Hale had the class repotting Bouncing Bulbs. The large purple bulbs were wriggling wildly, and several students were left chasing after them, while Stiles and his friends discussed the upcoming match. 

Allison said, as she wrapped her arms around a particularly stubborn bulb, Danny helping her wrangle it into the tray, “I wouldn’t worry too much, you’ve all been kidnapped from breakfast at least twice a week since trials, and you always practice on Saturdays.”

“Honestly, I’ve never even seen the Slytherin team practice. I tutor Oliver Knox- the team captain- sometimes and I’ve literally never heard of them practicing.”

“What about Erica?” Allison asked, and they turned to stare at Boyd. 

“What? I don’t spend all my time with her,” he said, defensively. 

“Yeah, you do,” Stiles said. 

 Boyd sighed, “I haven’t seen her practice either, actually.”

“We’ve got this, right Boyd?” Stiles said. “Just use that big body to protect the hoops.”

“Sure,” Boyd agreed, nodding.

“Personally, I think Slytherin is going to win. They’ve got Erica, who really is in prime position for Chasing- she’s small and fast, and not about fighting dirty to get the ball. Not that Slytherin really ever is, so if you want a shot at winning, I suggest you look up maneuvers that aren’t exactly legal- but nothing outright illegal, like Flacking or Bumphing,” Lydia said, arranging the bulb in the pot. The others simply stared at her. “What? I read,” she said, repotting one of the bulbs in their tray. 

\---

The following morning, Stiles groaned and was shuffled out of bed by Boyd, who was up and dressed already, Stiles’ mom’s broom in hand. It seemed that the broom was really just getting handed around, since Stiles’ dad had no use of it at home. Boyd was grinning, more excited than Stiles had ever seen him, and the two of them headed downstairs before any reasonable person was awake. 

“NO,” Stiles said, as soon as he stepped into the hall, spotting his Quidditch friends, “You will not steal away my breakfast today!” He sat down next to Boyd, saying, “Gimmie that box of Cheeri Owls.” Boyd raised his eyebrows as he handed Stiles the bright orange box that was on the table, already opened and half gone. Stiles peered into the box and then stuck his hand in, not bothering to get a bowl. He just shoved an entire handful into his mouth, and made a really indecent sound, not even caring that his teammates were staring at him. 

“-Okay, moving on,” Marcus said, shaking his head, “This is Boyd and Braeden’s first game, which is a bit of a disadvantage- sorry, guys- but Slytherin also got a new member of the team, so they’re at a disadvantage too. As long as we remember what we practiced, we should be okay. Okay?” he said, and they nodded along, including Stiles, who still had his hand inside of the cereal box. “And eat healthy, guys, you don’t need to be weighed down by sugar quills and hash browns. Stiles! Quit with the cereal!”

“But it has skrewt oil!” Stiles said, mouth full of cereal, pieces falling out of his mouth. 

\---

As they were heading to the pitch, Stiles and Boyd passed Allison and Lydia, who were wearing supportive reds, and waved as they saw them. Allison frowned when she saw Stiles, though, wearing full Quidditch gear, but carrying the box of Cheeri Owls, hand still inside. She mouthed, _‘What’s with the cereal?’_

Stiles waved his free hand wildly, "They're not feeding me!" he yelled at Allison, and continued to the pitch.

Slytherin vs. Gryffindor was the dirtiest match Stiles had ever seen. Erica got more than three fouls herself, and Stiles wasn’t above playing dirty- wasn’t about knowing _how_ to play dirty. However, Slytherin won even after Erica was kept off the field long enough for them to gang up on the remaining chasers and score- and then have their asses handed to them. Erica wouldn’t stop rubbing it in their faces, even after they were released to go shower. 

Stiles was the last one in- Allison and Lydia caught up with him afterwards, Lydia saying ‘I told you so’ and Allison rolling her eyes- or so he thought, but when he walked into the boy’s half, the shower curtain had been pulled aside, and one of the showers was letting off steam, and the person in it was- “Oh my god!” Malia was in the shower, and yeah, really really naked. His hand flew up to cover his eyes and he whirled around, “I promise I didn’t see anything!” nearly dropping his box of cereal.

He heard the water turn off, and Malia sigh, "I don't care, Stiles."

She stepped out of the shower and pulled a towel around herself, and Stiles said, “Uh- why are you in here? I know the girls have a shower too!”

She shrugged- not that he could see- and said, “Braeden was in it, and the other one has a leaky shower head.”

\---

The days following the match weren’t particularly hard in classwork- Stiles and Erica in particular were good with the Summoning Charms they’d learned in Charms, the two of them sitting in the Slytherin common room, summoning stray quills and essays from other students who yelled, “Hey!” as they whizzed across the room into their snickering hands.

“Have you finished researching your antidote recipe for Potions, yet?” she said, as another essay landed in her pile, and her cat, Seline, jumped up onto her lap. “I already have fifteen different ones written down, we have no idea what poison he’s going to supply for our class.”

“I just have one,” Stiles said, Seline purring next to him, “last time Harris was chewing us out, I got a good look at his lesson plan on his desk- he’s going to use Doxy venom for our class. We’d need an Antidote to Uncommon Poisons to cure that.”

“You’d have made a good Slytherin, Stiles. You’re devious, and use any means to get shit done,” Erica said. “I like that about you.”

\---

Nearing the end of the Herbology lesson, Professor Hale called out, “Miss Martin! Before you leave for your next lesson, please come see me.”

Lydia nodded, and said to Allison, who was just finishing cleaning the dirt from her arms, “I’ll see you later, alright?” Allison nodded, and Lydia walked up to Professor Hale as the rest of the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors swarmed out of the greenhouse. “Professor Hale?” she said, reaching to tap his shoulder, but he turned suddenly, clutching a yellow piece of parchment in his hand.

“Oh yes, Miss Martin. Adrian-” he said, “your Potions teacher- asked me to pass this along to you.” He held out his hand, and she took the paper. He smiled, looking particularly dangerous, but Lydia couldn’t pinpoint why- he still looked like a sixteen year old boy, one who could barely perform nonverbal spells, much less teach a class. 

“Thank you, Professor,” she said.

“No problem,” he smiled, but whatever malice she might have seen before was gone. He waved as she departed from the greenhouse, following her peers. She glanced down at the note.

_Your draught is in the adjoining potions classroom- I shall be teaching a class, so under no circumstance should you interrupt. -Harris_

Lydia made the long trek from the greenhouse down to the dungeons, and located the classroom adjoining her normal classroom. When she arrived, the door was cracked, and when she pushed it open, she spotted the vial on one of the tidy desks. The entire classroom was vacant, but it didn’t look totally abandoned, even though Lydia had never been in there before. 

Lydia slipped the vial into her pocket, and grabbed the note that had been propped up against it. It had her name in Harris’ familiar writing across the front. She flipped it open, and in it was a list of instructions telling her to pour it into her goblet at lunch/breakfast/whatever her next meal was. She crumpled the note up and put it in her other pocket, making a mental note to throw it out when she reached her dormitory before lunch. 

\---

Stiles approached the Ravenclaw table, spotting Lydia in her usual spot, but without Danny- he might have been having lunch at a different part of the table, but whatever, he didn’t need _his_ help. Stiles dropped down right next to Lydia, who was pouring over what looked like three different subjects’ worth of material. Her hair was pinned back, but strands were falling in her face, and she looked incredibly stressed out.

He ignored the stares and glares from Lydia’s fellow Ravenclaws, as he said, “Hey Lydia, can you explain this one thing from the Ancient Runes homework for me?” he’d forgotten to ask her in Herbology earlier that day, and the homework was due next period, so he knew he’d catch her at lunch. 

She looked over, and sighed, but nodded, “Show me,” she said as he pulled out his notebook. As he was fumbling with the pages, Lydia lifted her goblet and took a swig. As she dropped it back on the table, the smell wafted over to Stiles, and he was hit by the strangest, and somehow the most pleasant, smell he’d ever encountered.

"Wow,” Stiles said, leaning closer to sniff her drink, “that smells really good, what are you drinking?” The potion in her goblet- because it certainly wasn’t a normal drink- had a mother-of-pearl sheen to it, with swirls of smoke coming off of it. He sniffed it again, “It, uh, kinda smells like curly fries, and cinnamon. And soap, or something,” it was something he knew- but he didn't know _what._ The last smell was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. And the potion itself. He didn’t recognize it, but he felt he should have- even though Harris had them pickling rat brains, as of late. 

Lydia gave him a weird look, looking up from Stiles’ incomplete homework, and said, "It’s a calming draught, for stress. I had Professor Harris make it for me; I picked it up just before lunch,” she said. She’d asked Harris for a Calming Draught to help her focus on studying for O.W.L.s next year (Stiles didn’t even want to think about them, but they’d been told it would be prudent to start studying that very moment.) Sighing, she told him, “And it does not smell like any of those things. It smells like perfume. And old books. And wolfsbane." She sniffed.

"That doesn't, um, _look_ like a Calming Draught," Stiles said, "We made one in Potions ---"

"Well you didn't make it right then, Professor Harris made this one for me, and he's the potions teacher,” she said. Lydia seemed to distracted to even notice the difference. In fact, she seemed almost pale, and increasingly distracted. 

\---

Later, Stiles sat through the entire Ancient Runes class without hearing a word Professor Blake said, earning him extra homework, but he just couldn’t get lunch off his mind. There was something driving him crazy, but he just couldn’t figure it out. So as soon as the bell rang, Stiles grabbed Scott, and the two of them dashed out of class, all while Stiles filled Scott in.

“Are you sure that it wasn’t Calming Draught?” Scott asked, the two of them hopping down the stairs, two at a time, “Maybe it was just brewed incorrectly.”

“Harris? Brewing a potion incorrectly? With all the shit he gives us for _our_ potions? I doubt it.” Stiles stopped, “I think this is it. Lydia said it was the adjoining classroom."

They pushed the door open, and Stiles wasn’t sure what to expect, but he was almost disappointed when he didn’t find an illegal brewing lab. Instead they found a nearly spotless potions classroom, in which there was practically no evidence of potions having been brewed in there. Scott and Stiles took a quick look over the room, but they didn’t find anything until they stopped at the large stone basin at the corner of the room, usually reserved for washing out cauldrons. Stiles paused when he saw a blue liquid in its depths. 

“Hey I think I see something,” he said, and Scott rushed over. They both peered down into the basin. “I think someone poured a potion down the sink. Does that look like a Calming Draught to you?”

“C’mon Stiles, anybody could have poured those potions down the sink,” Scott said, “lets get out of here- the dungeons give me the creeps. I feel like Harris is gonna walk in at any second and chew us out.” 

Stiles sighed, and dragged his feet, “You’re probably right, Scott. It was probably some upper level Calming Draught or whatever, we’ve barely managed to complete a Wiggenweld Potion in the review last month!”

Scott laughed, “C’mon, I’m really craving a steak, I’m sure dinner has started by now.” They departed from the classroom. “What did you expect to expect to find, really?” Scott asked him, brushing shoulders, as they ascended. “That Harris had poisoned Lydia? I mean, for us that's actually kind of plausible, but I wouldn’t think he’d poison someone from his own house.”

Stiles shrugged, “Maybe. I dunno, I’m just going crazy.”

\---

Two days later, Stiles found himself back in Herbology. He’d remembered to wear his robe this time- he left it Scott’s dorm Tuesday, and forgot to get it until Allison wouldn’t stop haranguing him about the school dress code. However, as soon as he stepped into the greenhouse, something in his pocket started going crazy. It was making a loud noise, and spinning, flashing bright colors. “What the-” Stiles said, pulling the Sneakoscope from his robe pocket. He’d completely forgotten it was in there, since he’d picked it up months ago in Diagon Alley. 

“Stiles! Turn it off!” Scott said, “Professor Hale is looking in our direction!”

“I can’t!” Stiles said, “I don’t know how to turn it off! It’s only supposed to go off when someone is doing something untrustworthy!” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have picked it up,” Allison said, they having filled her in at World Cup, “I hear those things can be defective, especially the cheap ones- and someone had to have thrown it away for a reason.”

“You’re probably right. I’ll put it in my trunk later,” he told her, and stuffed it in one of his dragonhide gloves- and pulling off his tie to wrap around that, in order to muffle the sound. For the rest of the class, a low mumble came from Stiles’ pocket. 

\---

Nearing the end of November- after a Hogsmeade trip which included Allison and Scott’s first real date, Lydia declining and disappearing to do something in the castle, and Stiles being forced to accompany the rest of his friends to the Three Broomsticks- Potions was droning on even longer than usual. Halfway through the brewing of the potion, Stiles raised his hand. “Can I be excused?”

“Do you need to use the restroom?” Harris asked. 

“No, I just hate this.”

Yeah, he got a detention for that. Scott got one for being unable to hide his grin.

\---

The start of December brought chills and nothing else. There wasn’t a sign of snow anywhere, and first years had taken to staring at the dull grey sky longingly every time they were outside. The first Care of Magical Creatures lesson for the month wasn’t any more fun than the weather. Stiles, Scott, Boyd, and Isaac wrapped themselves in house scarves and hats, tucking their gloved hands under their armpits for warmth. Even their Monster Book was shivering, and it spent most of its time trying to kill its owner. In the paddock, only about fifteen of the skrewts were left- they were now six feet long and absolutely revolting. Stiles almost gagged when he saw them. 

The following Transfiguration lesson had them changing guinea fowls into guinea pigs, and ended with the homework of describing how Transfiguration Spells must be adapted when performing Cross-Species Switches.

\---

The first sign that something was wrong was one night when Stiles was up exceptionally late in the Hufflepuff common room. They’d made their usual run to the kitchen for pumpkin juice and custard creams, sitting up till well past midnight. Sneaking out of the common room, Stiles trekked back up to the Gryffindor common room. When he reached the fat lady, he said, “Wine gums,” and she sleepily swung the portrait open for him. 

He was shoving the Marauders’ Map back into his robe pocket when he looked up, to see Lydia standing in front of the fire in the empty Gryffindor common room with her back to Stiles. She didn’t even notice when he entered. Frowning, he said, “Lydia?” but she didn’t even turn. Stepping closer, he saw she was staring blankly at the fire. 

As he reached for her shoulder, she turned around, and cocked her head, “Stiles? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” He was getting worried. This wasn’t like her at all. He was briefly considering going and getting his Head of House- people don’t just suddenly start sleepwalking, it took an emotional trauma for _him_ to start, but Lydia was one of the strongest people he knew. 

Lydia took in her surroundings, seeming lost for a moment, and almost mumbling, said, “I have to go.”

Stepping right past him, Lydia headed for the porthole. “Lydia!” he called after her, but she didn’t stop. Stiles chased after her, but by the time he reached the exit, sticking his head out, she was already gone. Standing in the doorway, he thought her behavior was so incredibly bizarre...

The next morning, he told Scott. He seemed to think something was really wrong too, but they didn’t have enough concrete proof to go to any teacher or the headmaster, so they agreed to keep it between the two of them for the time being.

\---

Over the next few weeks, Stiles and Scott caught Lydia staring blankly at other things- books in the library, paintings in the hall when she was supposed to be in class- and even Professor Hale.

Every time they tried to bring it up with Lydia, she would just zone out until they were done. So instead, they brought it to the attention of the next best thing: her best friend. “So what you’re telling me is that Lydia has somehow developed a sleepwalking disorder, and is now wandering the halls at night?”

“Yes!” Stiles said, at the same time Scott said, “We think the day too.”

Allison shook her head, “No way. I would have notice. I’m her best friend, guys.”

“The only reason we noticed was because we caught her! She was out on mischief night- which is really weird for her-”

“Maybe she didn’t realize what night it was.”

“When does Lydia not realize what day it is? She’s got a Time-Turner for Merlin’s sake!” 

“She’s fine! Don’t you think she’d come to me if there was anything wrong?”

“No she’s not! And I don’t think she realizes what’s wrong!”

“Drop it, Stiles,” Allison said, and stormed off.

\---

As Christmas approached, their lessons didn’t seem to be getting any lighter. Professor Binns’ notes on the goblin rebellions- bloody and vicious as they were- were still as boring as ever. Harris informed them they would be tested on antidotes in the last lesson of the term, and Professors Vanity and Kettlewig were laying the homework on heavily. One snowless afternoon at lunch, Stiles found Erica and Boyd with their heads bent together, whispering furiously to each other. When Stiles sat down across from them, he raised an eyebrow, and Boyd placed something on the table in front of them.

It was Todd- Scott’s pet toad. And he was… purple. 

"There was an accident," Boyd said almost sheepishly. "Don't tell Scott."

Stiles turned to Erica, "What? Don't look at me. I wasn't there." 

"I don't think he'll care. Lemmie see. What happened?" he peered over the frog. 

“We found him in the dungeons last night, and I took him to charms with me this afternoon and-” Boyd said.

Ten minutes later, Scott plopped down next to Stiles, who was pushing asparagus around his plate with a fork, and was contemplating grabbing another drumstick. 

Reaching for the mashed potatoes, Scott said, "Has anyone seen Todd?"

The other three exchanged glances, and Boyd reached into his pocket to make sure Todd was still there, saying, "No," and shaking his head. 

“Maybe he's finally gone. My mom can't say anything this time. Or find him," Scott said. Maybe he finally joined his brethren in the black lake, he thought. 

\---

Despite being December, there had been absolutely no sign of snow. Three days before the Hogwarts Express was to leave, there was a light snowfall, but it nearly melted away in the night. Stiles thought it was a perfect metaphor for the whole feel of this year.

Allison, Scott, and Stiles were sitting up in the library working on their holiday homework when Allison looked out the window and giggled. Stiles and Scott craned their necks to try and peer out the window, when Allison said, “It's just like the wizard and the hopping pot!" 

“What?” Scott asked, the two of them finally spotting what she did- there was a cauldron following Deaton around, hopping on one brass foot. 

It seemed to be carrying something for him, and Stiles said, “Whoa, you’re right!”

“What’s the wizard and the hopping pot?” Scott asked, frowning. 

Stiles and Allison turned to him, and Stiles said, “Oh right, I forget you were raised by muggles- it’s a short story in The Tales of the Beedle the Bard.”

“You’ve never read The Tales of the Beedle the Bard?” Allison asked, smiling.

"No? My mom read Grimm's fairytales to me, though."

"Grimm's? What's that?" Allison asked, sporting a confused frown.

"Uh- Cinderella, Snow White?"

Allison’s frown only deepened, “We’ve never covered that in Muggle Studies!” 

\---

Stiles was only home for two days when he and Allison got into another fight about Lydia. Stiles was still convinced there was something really wrong with Lydia, but when he tried to tell them, she denied it. So three days into Winter Holiday had the two of them yelling at each other over the phone in French.

_"And even if she is losing time-"_

_"Which she_ is _-"_

 _"-_ if _she is, my dad has told me stories of people who work at the ministry when he did who used to lose time, and they were perfectly normal!"_

Siles was wandering around the house with the house phone tethered to the wall by a long cord, shouting into it. "’Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-mémes!’ that's what you told me! Well Lydia needs protection!” he said, slamming the phone into the receiver, fuming. 

His dad looked up from the kitchen table, where he was reading the paper, "When the hell did you learn to speak French?"

"Second year,” he said, and stormed off. Stilinski was left shaking his head.

\---

Several afternoons later, Scott came storming through the fireplace, complaining about Allison. They’d called it off, only somewhat because he’s siding with Stiles, and was fuming for the last week of break-

Allison had gotten him the book The Tales of the Beedle the Bard, translated from ancient runes by Hermione Granger, with the inscription, “This is particularly useful for teaching young wizards and witches the differences between magical right and wrong- including accusing your friends of being magically possessed!” Scott showed it to Stiles, who laughed his head off.

\--- 

By the time they’d arrived back at Hogwarts for the spring, a layer of snow had fallen on the grounds, although not nearly as much as they’d seen in the past several years. Stiles and his friends made their way down to Deaton’s hut early Tuesday morning, the frosty snow crunching beneath their feet. When they arrived, they saw a beast that made the light snow seem even dirtier than it was- a unicorn.

“Boys, step back!” Deaton called as soon as he saw them arriving, “The adults only allow women to approach them-” he himself was staying a respectful distance away from it. Stiles briefly wondered how he managed to catch it, if it didn’t like boys. The girls of the class, including Anthea, however, stepped closer, looking at the unicorn in wonder. “Girls, approach with care…” he said, as the unicorn was pawing the ground with her golden hooves, throwing back her horned head. 

“Wow,” Scott said, breathless, “that’s amazing.”

\---

The second week in January, as Stiles was heading back to his dorm before lunch, he’d realized he’d forgotten his Dragon-hide gloves in the Herbology lesson a few minutes before, and if he rushed, he could be back there before the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins had their lesson. He raced across the greens and hopped over small hills, finally reaching the foggy greenhouse. He pulled open the door, and stepped inside- it appeared no one was inside. He spotted the workstation he and his friends had been using, dashed over there, and grabbed his gloves. However, as Stiles was shoving them in his robe pocket, he realized he could hear someone at the other side of the greenhouse. Or rather, two someones. Who were kissing.

Yeah, he was so not supposed to be in there. _Who the hell would be kissing where Professor Hale could catch them?_ Stiles wondered. He ducked down and glanced through the plant matter to see who it was. He saw long red hair and a short skirt and- oh shit, that was Lydia, kissing someone in the greenhouse. He was about to turn and run, when the guy turned them around, and even from the back of his head, Stiles could recognize the guy she was kissing.

Professor Peter Hale, who looked like a normal sixteen-year-old Hogwarts student, was cupping Lydia’s face, and kissing her hard on the lips. And she was kissing him back. Oh god, Stiles might throw up. Peter was a teacher- this was beyond messed up- he wondered if Allison knew. He knew, despite his existential crisis, that he had to get out of there. He glanced up, making sure they were sufficiently distracted, and dashed out of the greenhouse while still crouched. He didn’t care about the door making noise on the way out. 

Unbeknownst to him, hearing the door slam, Peter and Lydia pulled apart and stared at the door, but not seeing who had been there.

\---

“Lydia!” Stiles called after her, from where he’d been waiting in the halls for her, just outside the Ravenclaw dorms. He’d climbed the staircase because he was board, and was waiting at the foot of the large handleless door. He scrambled to his feet as he saw her take the last few steps, and she stopped. He grabbed her shoulder, and blurted, “I saw you kissing Professor Hale!” 

Lydia just stared at him blankly for a moment, and then turned to the great Ravenclaw door. It was solid, aged wood, and only a bronze knocker as a way of entering. Lydia reached for the knocker, and its beak opened, saying, “Two words, my answer is only two words. To keep me, you must give me,” in a soft musical voice.

She thought for a moment, and then said, “Your word.” The door swung open, and Lydia stepped inside, the door slamming in Stiles’ face.

“Lydia!” he called, but there was no answer. 

\---

“I- are you sure it was Professor Hale?” Allison asked, when he’d gathered her and Scott in a secluded part of the Gryffindor common room. She was holding Scott’s hand.

“Yes! I could recognize him even from across the greenhouse,” Stiles said, “and who else would be making out with someone in there?” 

“Have you said anything to Lydia?” Allison asked, standing up. She looked like she might start pacing the room herself. 

“Yeah, I said something to her first- she just stared at me blankly. Its like her with the staring last year.”

“Do you believe me now?” Stiles said.

“Yes, of course,” Allison said, with a sigh, sitting back down. “What are we going to do about this?”

“We should probably round up what we know. Meet you guys in the library in an hour?” Stiles said. “I have to grab something.”

\---

“Okay, here’s what we know:” Stiles said, after the three of them met up in the library. Scott and Allison had stopped by the Great Hall to grab a couple items of food, and the three of them were crouched around a list. “My Sneakoscope,” which he’d gone back upstairs to his dorm to get, “went off in the greenhouse, and because she was kissing Peter, it was probably him doing whatever to Lydia. And, I think, she’s been acting weird since Mischief Night- she was out all late and didn’t know what day it is.”

“And all the blank staring,” Scott added.

“Right. That too. Did you know I caught her staring at the headmaster the other day? It was weird. He’s weird,” Stiles shuddered, “anyway, that’s been happening since she took that Calming Draught.”

“Calming Draught?” Allison asked, confused, “She didn’t tell me about that.”

“She told me about it when I saw her drink it a couple of months ago, back in November,” Stiles said, “I don’t… know if it was actually what she said it was though. It didn’t look like what we brewed in class. It was all mother-of-pearl-y and had swirls coming off of it, and smelled like different stuff to each of us.”

Allison looked up from where she was writing it down, “Did it smell good?”

“What?”

“The stuff the potion smelled like, was it good?”

“Um, yeah, why?”

“I have a hunch,” Allison said. 

“What are we gonna do about it?” Scott asked.

“I mean,” Allison said, “I don’t know if there’s anything we _can_ do about it. Nobody’s even seen anything but you, Stiles,” she said, nodding in his direction. “I’ve got to do some research, so I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

\---

Several days later was the January trip to Hogsmeade, where Allison took a trip to the bookshop, Tomes and Scrolls, and perused Potions books. She was there for nearly an hour, Scott and Stiles laying on the floor in boredom, when she found what she was looking for.

“Here! Here it is!” she said, and pointed. There was a picture of a vial that looked an awful lot like the one Lydia was drinking. The vial was labed “Amortentia” and the ingredients were actually a bit vile (not really any worse, though, than things they’d made in Potions before, though.) “It’s the world’s most powerful love potion,” she told them, “Lydia must have been given that and now she’s infatuated with Professor Hale!”

“That explains most of her symptoms!” Scott said, staring at Allison, completely love-drunk himself. They’d gotten back together days before. “She’d do whatever he wants her too, and it says here it leaves her pale and sickly looking!”

“She has looked a lot paler lately- I mentioned it, but she didn’t seem to care,” Allison said.

\---

So they did the only thing they knew how to do in a situation like this: they asked a teacher for help. Lydia bought the book so they could use it for reference, and the three of them high-tailed it out of Hogsmeade and dragged themselves back up to the castle, and after nearly an hour of searching (and Scott’s idea to check the map) they located Harris in one of the lower dungeons.

The three of them skidded to a stop in the doorway of Harris’ personal office in the dungeon. The door was open, and Harris was sitting at his desk, his glasses perched on his nose, grading papers. When they pushed the door open, he slid the glasses to the end of his nose and asked with a sigh, “How can I help you?”

Scott blurted, “We know you gave Lydia Martin a Calming Draught in November, but is there any way it might have gotten switched with an Amortentia potion? And you accidentally gave her one of those?” 

“Did I accidentally give- what the hell are you three talking about? I might expect this kind of behavior from Mr. Stilinski or Mr. McCall, but you Miss Argent!” Harris said, standing up, looking increasingly imposing. 

“Um, so you confirm you gave Lydia a Calming Draught in November?” Scott squeaked.

“Yes, I did, Mr. McCall, as I have given her several since! And I have given each one of them to her myself!” he was fuming, and Stiles fought the urge to step back. “The three of you! Detention, tomorrow evening, six o’clock! Now out, out!” he said, and the three of them stepped outside as he slammed the door in their faces, muttering, “Love potions! I don’t get paid enough for this.”

The three of them sunk to the floor outside his office, and Stiles hit the back of his head to the stone wall. He groaned, “Well that went awesomely.”

“I really thought that was what’s wrong with her!” Allison said.

“Maybe it’s just a banshee thing.”

\---

In Charms, they’d begun to practice their Banishing Charms- the opposite of Summoning Charms. Kettlewig had given them cushions to practice on, and ducked out of the way every time one went sailing her way. She was very pleased with the results- only a couple of people had accidentally banished larger objects- like their desks. Stiles, on the other hand, mastered the charm fairly quickly, and had taken to banishing his cushion to the back of his friends’ heads. Everyone else was having just as much fun as he was. 

\---

“Guys, I think it’s getting worse,” Stiles said. The beginning of February had come, and things were only getting stranger. “I saw Lydia kissing Peter in the hallway before breakfast. The _hallway._ ” Allison stared at him. “None of the teachers were around, but plenty of other students were.”

“I don’t know what this even is- but we really need to say something to her,” Allison said. 

“We’ll do it after this class,” Stiles said, “We have Herbology with her next.”

“Okay, tell me how it goes,” Scott said, and waved at them. They waved back and headed downstairs with the rest of their House. Stiles was distracted with thoughts of Lydia and their previous Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, so on the way down he forgot to jump over the trick step, and he sunk his right foot in it with a loud yell. 

“Allison! Boyd! Help!” he called, as several classmates glanced behind him. Allison giggled, and Boyd rolled his eyes, and each of them grabbed one arm and pulled him right out. He collected his books, and was only missing one, which he located on a lower step when he looked over the balcony. They waited for him at the bottom of the stairs as he retrieved his book, and then they hurried to class.

When they arrived, Lydia was already at their tray, ready to start on the Herbivicus Charms. She was leaning on the tray and staring off at Professor Hale (who still looked like a teenager- any potions or spells wore off nearly immediately. The cure was still being worked upon by Madam Morrel and Kettlewig) who was assisting students with questions. 

“Lydia,” Allison said. She made ‘hmm’ noise, and turned around. She put her hands over Lydia’s, and said, “we, uh, know about you and Prof- uh, Peter.”

“Hmm?” she said, “oh, Peter! Isn’t he lovely? I just love him so much…” she said, sighing. Allison turned back to Stiles, looking alarmed. 

“Lydia, Peter isn’t a good guy! I mean, besides dating a fourth year, which is really creepy, he probably fed you love potions when you weren’t looking!” Stiles said. 

Lydia wretched back from Allison, “This is what you’re here about? Peter and my relationship? I can’t believe you!” she said defensively. “He and I love each other!” Stiles reached for her. 

“ _Lydia_ ,” Stiles said, almost desperately, “do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?”

She pushed him off, and shook her head, “I am fine, Stiles! And I love him, which has nothing to do with anyone but Peter and I!” She shook them off, and said, “I’m going to go practice my Charms with _Ravenclaws_.” 

Stiles sighed, and Allison said, “That could have gone better.”

Boyd leaned over, “What’s up with Lydia? And who’s Peter?”

Stiles patted him on the shoulder, “You don’t wanna know, buddy.”

\---

Around Valentines’ Day, the halls were filled with love potions again, and Stiles actually saw Harris slam the dungeon doors in the face of third years asking for love potions. In the library, he saw girls giggling in the corners at Danny, who just smiled politely back at them. Stiles grabbed his shoulders and lead him away, while saying, “Move along ladies! He’s not interested in your kind!” all while Danny rolled his eyes.

Pushing Danny past the giggling girls, they passed Lydia’s table, where she had a vial of Calming Draught among her things. They stopped at the table, and Stiles said, “So you’re still drinking those, huh?”

Lydia nodded, looking at him like he was crazy, “Of course.”

Danny narrowed his eyes at the bottle, “Are you sure those are Calming Draughts?” but they moved along. However, once they got out of earshot, Danny whispered, “I haven’t seen her study in weeks.”

\---

With the passing of Valentines day, everyone had been thinking about love. Including Scott- but Stiles was much too concerned with her welfare to even think about bringing Lydia flowers- she’d taken to disappearing for hours at a time, and wouldn’t tell anyone where she’d been. 

One morning, Scott laid down on Stiles' bed, looking up at the ceiling, and asked, "Is it possible to love two people at once?" 

Stiles paused from shoving his books into his bag, and said, "Uh, yeah, I guess so. Why?" 

Scott resumed staring at the ceiling, and said, "Nothing."

\---

The following Care of Magical Creatures lesson had them learning about unicorn foals. Unlike the adults, they were much less selective about who got to pet them, and were a solid gold color, although they didn’t grow their horn until age four. As Stiles and Scott were petting one of them, Stiles had this stupid blissed out look on his face, and said, “I got to touch a unicorn. Wow. I soooo can’t wait to tell my dad about this.”

\---

March came with breezy winds but a much drier climate, which everyone was thankful for, especially during the fourth Quidditch match of the year, between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. However, Isaac was knocked unconscious mid-game by a stray Bludger to the head, and took a dive to the ground before anyone could catch him. His bones were fine, and he was carted away to the infirmary, and the game resumed- Isaac didn’t return for the remainder, which caused a definite Gryffindor win, but the Gryffindors didn’t count it as a real win, and hardly celebrated. Instead, both teams took a trip down to the infirmary, where Isaac was still unconscious. 

The following afternoon, Coach Finstock gathered players from all four teams and stood in front of them all, holding up a quill. “As you all know, Lahey was knocked out in a match yesterday- and I’m expecting all of you to sign the card in my office. Got it?” he said. "- even you, Greenberg!" At that point, no one even bothered to look around. “Alright, which one of you is going first?”

Danny stood up, “I will, coach,” he said, grabbing the quill. Scott, Stiles, and Boyd all hopped up after him, Erica grabbing the rest of the Slytherins as she followed. Somehow, when they got there, _Greenberg_ was already signed in there. 

\---

One evening in mid-March, Lydia walked into the kitchens with a dazed look, a smile on her face, and poisoned everybody.

\---

Dinner was a normal affair, with roast beef and carrots and green beans, casserole and mashed potatoes, and basically all of Stiles’ favorite things (minus curly fries, but it’s Hogwarts, he’ll survive.) However, when dessert arrived, chaos reigned. At first, everything seemed just like dinner: perfectly fine. There were custard creams, pumpkin pasties, a large lemon meringue pie, among lots of others. Stiles reached for a custard cream- but stopped before he could shove it in his mouth. Last time he’d eaten one, Scott had substituted it for a Canary Cream from Weasley’s. Inspecting it closely- as Canary Creams never looked quite as good as fresh custard creams- Stiles spotted something weird. The entire thing was dusted in a light purple powder. Putting it down on his plate, as others stuffed their faces around him, he swiped a layer of meringue topping from the pie, and looked closer at it.

It, like the cream, seemed to be covered in the same purple powder. Stiles stuck his finger in his mouth, tasting the meringue

“Does this taste funny to you?” Stiles asked, at the same time a Slytherin, who had been stuffing his face with pie, threw up loudly. Everyone turned to him, and suddenly another person threw up, and another. Madam Morrell stood up abruptly, her chair making a loud scraping noise as it was pushed back.

Several more people looked queasy, and Allison touched her face, saying, although somewhat slurred, “Stiles, my face is tingly.”

Across from them, Boyd looked pale, “I might throw up too.”

Madam Morrell looked up from her patient to the head table and the risen teachers, and said, “They’ve been poisoned! Get them to the infirmary!” she ordered. Standing up, she said, looking peckish herself, but determined, “Everyone else, head to the infirmary if you can walk.”

The rush to the infirmary was chaotic. People were pushing each other out of the way, and by the time Scott and Stiles- as they’d managed to find each other in the whole mess- arrived with Allison propped up between them, looking pale, nearly all the beds were taken, and the nurses were handing out bottles of prepared Antidote to Common Poisons. Scott and Stiles let Allison down and sat in one corner of the room on the floor, thighs pressed together as they got increasingly more nauseous. At least Allison had passed out, and wasn’t in danger of throwing up.

“Wolfsbane poisoning!” Morrell yelled as she carried one of the passed out students into the infirmary, laying them on one of the few available beds. She rushed around, giving orders and doing quick checkups on people as she passed. 

She had started looking anyone who stepped into the infirmary dead in the eye, and saying, “If you are not here to help, get out,” and had enlisted the help of both her brother and the potions master Harris in synthesizing an antidote for the poison. Nurses had pulled out their biggest cauldrons, and various healthy students and teachers were summoning ingredients and mixing them. Those who weren’t mixing were coming around to check on those who were throwing up or looked pale. Nearly everyone in the school was packed into the room.

Finally, someone reached the three of them. Morrell asked, “Stilinski, how much did you eat?” 

“Like, a finger of meringue.”

“Drink half this bottle,” she said, handing him bottle with a teal potion in it, and was about to move on, when she paused at Scott. “How much did you ingest?”

Scott groaned, “Half a cookie. I think I’m allergic to this stuff.”

“McCall, drink the other half of the bottle,” and moved on to Allison, who was laying her head in Scott’s lap, as a makeshift pillow. Stiles downed his half, handing the bottle to Scott, and in moments he was feeling better. Scott’s normal color had returned, although Allison still looked terrible. 

“Have you seen Lydia here at all? I didn’t see her at dinner,” Stiles asked, after a moment. 

“You don’t think-” Scott started, but Stiles’ mouth was pressed in a thin line. Yeah, he did. Lydia had been doing crazy things lately, and they loved Lydia, but she’d become increasingly unstable towards them lately. “We should go find out.” 

Scott lifted Allison’s head from his lap and placed it on his and Stiles’ folded up robes, and the two of them snuck past the nurses. As they ran out the door, they passed Boyd and Erica, the former of which was holding up Erica’s hair as she threw up in a bin. They skidded to a stop as they exited the infirmary, as the headmaster and a ministry official were talking with a nurse around the corner. “Shh!” Stiles said, as they turned into the conversation.

“Peter Hale cannot be located at the moment,” Headmaster Davis said to her, her hands on her hips, sighing. “But I’m told he’s missing a large quantity of Wolfsbane that he cultivates in private for his ‘condition.’”

“If you see him, inform me,” she said, and passed the two of them. 

The ministry official turned to the headmaster, “Davis, I’m going to take a statement of anyone who’s awake, but afterwards, we need to go by the kitchens. The house elves were down there when this happened, they should know all about it.” Scott and Stiles exchanged glances, and didn’t take anymore time. They dashed past the headmaster, and headed down to the basement level. They only stopped when they reached the kitchen corridor, and found the portrait of the giant fruit bowl. Stiles had been down that way incredibly often for a Gryffindor, and Scott more often even than him- if you continued down the hall you’d reach the Hufflepuff common room. 

Out of breath, and bent over, Stiles wheezed, “You can tickle it.”

Catching his own breath, Scott reached up and tickled the giant pear until it giggled. The portrait swung open, and they stepped inside to the faces of hundreds of house elves, most of whom were cleaning up after dinner. The kitchen was a room as large and wide as the great hall above it, with mounds of glittering pots and pans, and a large roaring fire at the back of the room.

There were four House tables positioned directly under their counterparts on the upper level, and Stiles suspected that’s where the food had sat over an hour before, although he’d never actually been down there before the food appeared. “C’mon,” Scott said, a look of determination on his face, as he lead Stiles to the kitchen where the house-elves were. 

About a hundred of them were standing around the kitchen- in tea towels stamped with the Hogwarts emblem- and bowed and curtsied when they saw Scott and Stiles. “What do we do? Do we just ask them or what?” Stiles whispered. Scott shrugged. 

“Hey, uh, you!” Scott called as a house-elf was scurrying past them. 

He stopped, nearly dropping the pot he was carrying, and squeaked, “Me?” Stiles nodded.

“Uh, what’s your name?” Scott asked.

The house-elf’s eyes widened, and he said, “Wheezy, sir!”

“Okay, Wheezy can you tell us something?” Stiles asked. The elf nodded. “Like two hours ago, when you were putting dessert out, did a redheaded girl come in here? And put something on the food?”

The house-elf suddenly looked ashamed, and was wringing his hands, “She was a witch, we don’t tell witches no,” he shuffled around, and Scott exchanged looks with him. The elf looked terribly afraid, like he was going to get fired, “Is Wheezy in trouble, sirs?”

“Of course not!” Scott rushed to assure him. “Just don’t let her in again, okay? Make sure you tell all your friends that too,” the elf nodded, sniffling. 

“And you can’t tell anyone else this information, either. It’ll get her in trouble,” Stiles warned.

“Sirs want Wheezy to- to _lie_?” he said, and looked like he might start bashing his head on things. “Wheezy has been baaaad!”

“Wait, no!” Scott said, horrified. “It’s okay! You didn’t know!” Scott was better at dealing with the elves than Stiles was, the Hufflepuffs were down in the basement near the kitchen for a reason. “You just can’t tell anyone. Just shake your head or something!”

Wheezy sniffled, and wiped his eyes, “Wheezy is sorry, sirs!”

Stiles sighed, and patted his head, “It’s okay, buddy.”

“Is that all, sirs?” he asked, and Stiles and Scott nodded. He bowed lowly and retreated. 

“That was..” Stiles said. 

Scott sighed, “I know.”

“I like them much better when they’re trying to give us food.”

As they stepped back out of the kitchen into the airy hallway, Scott said, as they were about to part ways, “Uh, Stiles, I think I’m gonna go check on Allison in the hospital wing.” 

“Yeah, dude, go, I’m gonna head up to bed. This was exhausting,” he waved, and Scott skipped up the steps, and was gone. Stiles walked wearily back up to the seventh floor, and let himself in to the common room (the password was Silva). He climbed yet another staircase to the dorms- no one seemed to be back yet- when he saw someone sitting on his bed. 

Lydia turned to him, she’d been waiting on his bed for him to return. She was trembling, and said, swallowing, “I think I’m going crazy. I think I poisoned everybody.”

He took a step closer, and it was clear she hadn’t eaten anything, because she didn’t look like she was in danger of throwing up, or, well, dying. She was still pale and sickly looking, though. “Why?”

She bit her lip, and said, “Come with me.” She took his hand, and took him to Ravenclaw tower. He had no idea what time it was, but at the moment, it didn’t really matter. When they arrived, Lydia took him up past the common room into the dorms. They were just as different as the Hufflepuff dorms were to the Gryffindor ones, with the fourposter beds covered in blue silk eiderdowns, the wind whistling past the windows. 

Lydia stepped over to what Stiles assumed was her bed, and pulled back the sheets. Her bed was full of dirt and wolfsbane flowers. He stepped closer to look at it, and she said, “I swear I don’t remember it, I don’t Stiles,” she said, almost begging him to believe her. He put his hand on her arm, and pulled the sheets back over the flowers.

“Okay, Lydia, the house-elves will have this cleaned up in the morning. But listen to me,” he said, looking her in the eyes, “don’t tell _anyone_ else about this, okay? Call me _immediately_ if anything else like this happens.” She nodded. “Also, um, sleep in Anthea’s bed, I don’t think she’ll be back here tonight.”

Lydia nodded, still looking shaken up. He nearly offered to stay, and like, sleep outside her door, but Scott tells him that kind of behavior is creepy, and Professor Grinspun probably wouldn’t take too kindly to a Gryffindor boy sleeping outside the girls’ dorm. So instead he waved goodbye, and finally went to sleep in his own bed.

\---

By the next morning, nearly everyone was back up and fine, although slightly suspicious of the food. Headmaster Davis and Madam Morrell had to assure them that the food was fine, although since the ministry investigator talked with the house-elves the previous night, they still hadn’t caught the poisoner. They might actually have suspected Peeves, but it was unlike him to do something so blatantly destructive and evil. And he denied it, but he denied everything. 

Stiles trudged down to breakfast, and plopped down across from Boyd, and Allison next to him, all in their usual spots. Boyd was chewing on a sausage, when he said, “I wonder what those guys are here for? There was just one here for the whole poisoning thing last night.”

“What guys?” Scott said, appearing out of nowhere, and sitting down between Stiles and Allison. 

“The ministry guys,” Allison said, and Boyd pointed with his forked sausage. At the head table, there were four ministry employees, including the one that Stiles and Scott had seen the previous night. The teachers were looking worried and whispering among themselves, and looking worried. After a moment, the headmaster quieted them. 

Before anyone had a chance to say anything else, Danny ducked over to the Gryffindor table to sit between Scott and Stiles, the latter who said, “Hey dude!”

But Danny was frowning. “Guys,” he said, “Lydia’s missing.”

\---

“ _What?_ ” Stiles whispered furiously, “I _just_ saw her last night!” as Allison, Stiles, Scott and Danny slipped out of breakfast. He looked between them, waiting for an explanation, “She was waiting in my room- and she took me back to the tower, where she showed me the dirt and flowers in her bed. I should have stayed!”

Danny shook his head, “Apparently she slipped out sometime last night. None of the other beds were even disturbed- she didn’t take anything with her, not even her wand. 

“You have to help us with this! We don’t have Lydia to help figure out what’s wrong with Lydia, because she’s obviously under some curse or something!”

He frowned, and said, “Why?”

“You’re a Ravenclaw! You’re supposed to be smart! Our resident Ravenclaw is poisoning people!” 

Danny sighed, “Okay. I’ll see what I can overhear from the ministry workers next time they come by the common room. I’ll just play weepy friend or whatever.”

“Thanks,” Scott said. “We’ll try to stalk them too, won’t we Allison?” 

Allison nodded, “Scott and Stiles are really good at getting into places they shouldn’t be. I’ll ask my dad about it, she _is_ my best friend.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Danny said, pointing at them, “All of you have to tell me what’s been going on when we find her.”

“Okay okay,” Stiles agreed. We’ll meet up after Charms when we have our free period.”

\---

Allison sat down at the library table, and put the Muffliato charm up so they knew they wouldn’t be overheard, and said, “On the bright side, they don’t know she poisoned everybody.” 

“And on the downside?” 

“She’s still missing.” 

Stiles groaned and dropped his head to the table. They’d taken up their own search of her, but so far, they had no results. “Scott and I searched all the corridors and hallways we knew of, including the secret passages to Hogsmeade, in case she decided to take a trip there in the middle of the night, but apparently not. And we basically avoided any and all ministry workers. They didn’t talk about anything that would help us find her, though.”

Danny shook his head too, “She wasn’t in any of the Ravenclaw dorms, or the common room. We checked them all.”

Stiles reached into his pocket, and pulled out the Sneakoscope. He put it on the table, and spun it like a normal top. “I still think it’s Peter,” he said, watching it. Danny looked confused, but they’d explain later.

And Scott frowns, and is like, “Yeah the guy is skeevy, but-”

“No! I mean, this is the Sneakoscope we found in Diagon Alley, right? Well the first time it went off it was in Herbology when we were near Peter, right? I bet it would do the same thing now!” he said, suddenly excited. He grabbed the thing before it stopped spinning. “He probably did something to her. And- a couple months ago on mischief night Lydia was wondering around like she didn't know where she was going, and she’s probably doing the same thing now!”

“So where is she?” Scott said, perking up.

“-that I do not know,” Stiles said. “But I know someone who might.”

\---

The four of them ran down to the greenhouses, hoping Peter was still there, and that nobody else was. As luck would have it, he was alone and watering the plants. He wasn’t wearing his normal school robes, instead he was wearing a black sweater, which had been rolled up to his sleeves- his teaching robes no longer fit properly. When they all shuffled inside, he sighed, and put down his watering can.

“Where’s Lydia?” Allison asked, crossing her arms. “We know you cursed her, or fed her love potion, or whatever.” Danny was looking a bit alarmed behind them. Maybe they should have explained before they stormed the greenhouse. 

“I’ve already been questioned by the ministry,” Peter said, shrugging, but with a sharp glint to his grinning teeth, “they’ve already cleared me, I don’t know where she is- what makes you think a couple of fourth years would do any different?”

“So you do know where she is!” Scott said.

Peter sighed, “Now I didn’t say that. I have no idea where Lydia is- like I told the ministry workers earlier.” 

“You probably cursed them too,” Stiles mumbled. 

“What, do you think I killed her and stuffed her body in the flower pots? Or fed her to the Venomous Tentaculas?” he chuckled, and hook his head, continuing to water the plants. “I really have no more idea of where she is than any of you do.”

\---

The next two days were torture. They still had to attend all their lessons, and Stiles wasn’t even pleased by the perfectly-brewed potion he managed, which astonished even Harris into giving him five points. In Care of Magical Creatures, they’d started on nifflers, fluffy little black things with a long snout. The nifflers loved shiny things, so they had a competition with a prize to see who’s niffler could dig up the most leprechaun gold in a plot Deaton had dug earlier that afternoon. It really was the most fun they’d had in CoMC, with the nifflers diving in and out of the dirt like water, spitting the gold coins into the lap of whomever claimed them. For a little while, they forgot their friend was missing, and that Isaac still hadn’t regained consciousness in the hospital.

However, hex-deflection in DADA had several people sent to the hospital wing with various minor injuries, but thankfully none of Stiles’ friends were injured. They did make a trip to the hospital wing that day, though. After Quidditch practice that evening, Stiles showered and went directly to the wing, still carrying his things. When he arrived, he saw Scott sitting on a stool on the other side of the bed, falling asleep as he leaned on his hand. 

“Hey, you came,” he mumbled sleepily. 

“Yeah dude, and I brought these!” Stiles said, pulling out dandelions he plucked from the Quidditch Pitch. He stuck them on the cup beside the bed, and poured water from the pitcher into it. It didn’t need to be pretty, he felt that Madam Morrell was probably going to come clean up behind him and put them in a normal vase when he was gone. The prize for having the niffler with the most gold- chocolate- that Boyd had received had been placed on the side table too.

Isaac was still unconscious, but that wasn’t really unusual for taking a Bludger to the head and falling twenty feet to the ground, and they’d been told he’d wake up in a week or so. Stiles pulled up another stool, and dropped his bag to the ground. “Damn,” Stiles cursed, as the bag’s contents spilled out- his gross Quidditch robes, his spellbooks, and the Marauder’s Map. Stiles scooped everything back up into the bag, but paused before kicking the bag under the table and spread the map across his side of Isaac’s bed. 

Scott was still half asleep, so Stiles searched the map until he located Lydia’s footprints, in literally the worst place possible. He shook Scott awake, and told him where she was.

"Lydia's _where_?" Scott said in disbelief. He looked like he still wanted to be asleep.

"The Forbidden Forest!" Stiles said, exasperated. 

"How do you know?" 

“The map!” Stiles said, showing Scott, pointing to the forbidden forest, a little pair of feet tagged _Lydia Martin_ wandering around slowly. “I don’t know why we didn’t think of this before!”

“We have to take this to Headmaster Davis!” Scott said, tugging on the corner of the map.

“No way!” Stiles said, pulling the map back.

“I thought you loved her?”

“I do!” Stiles said, “That’s why we can’t tell them- we don’t know why she’s in there! She could be on one of her blackouts again, and even if she’s not, she’ll be punished for entering the Forbidden Forest! And we have to go now!”

Scott said, “What are we going to do about it?”

“We have to go after her!”

Scott squeaked, “It’s the Forbidden Forest!”

“It’s _Lydia_!”

Scott sighed, and nodded, “Okay. Have your wand?” Stiles nodded, and whispered _Mischief Managed_ to the map, and the two of them raced out of the hospital wing. 

As they ran past her office, Madam Morrell, yelled, “Visiting hours are over, boys!” 

Stiles yelled back, “Yeah sorry, we’re gone!” 

\---

"Are we really doing this?" Scott asks as they traipsed (loudly, like a baby elephant) through the woods, with only their wand lighting the way. As soon as they ran past Deaton’s hut and stepped into the woods, they realized what a bad idea it had been, but over half an hour later they couldn’t turn back.

"You're the one who's always bitching about how nothing ever happens at this school!" Stiles said, and hopped over a log. They wandered about a bit more- Scott was getting creeped out by the increasing size of the spiders, but Stiles just thought they were cool- trying to follow the map to Lydia’s position. However, a low thunder-like sound sound came from far off. 

“Whoa, what’s that?” Scott said, and grabbed Stiles’ shirt. He’d aimed his wand at the trees.

Stiles shrugged him off, “I don’t know, but can we not stick around to find out please?” The sound was getting louder as the seconds passed, and Stiles backed into Scott. “Okay, maybe if we don’t move, they won’t notice us.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work!” Scott yelled as a whole pack of centaurs burst through the brush, in a sort of stampede, except several of them slowed down when they saw the two of them. Unfortunately, one of them grabbed the back of Stiles’ collar, pulling him onto his back.

“Scooooooootttttt!” Stiles yelled, as he was being kidnapped by the centaur. 

Scott, who had ducked, looked up, and yelled, “I’ll come back for you!” 

Then, everything went black.

Stiles came to hours later, groggy, and lying on something hard. When he opened his eyes, he screamed- an equine/human face was looking over him. He scrambled backwards, and the face just snorted at him. He looked around and realized he was surrounded by them. One of them had his wand, and tossed it to the side, landing in the roots of a tree stump. 

The one leaning over him- who had red hair and fur- glanced back at its brethren, and said, “Why are you here, human?"

Stiles was falling over himself, trying to say, "LYDIA! I'm here to find Lydia! She's this perfect, strawberry blonde witch, and she’s been missing for three days!" 

“Why did you think this Lydia was in the forest?” he said, and his feet were idly moving. Stiles briefly considered running, but they had his wand, and the only free way was behind him- right up into a tree. 

“The map! It said she was here and I followed it!”

“What map?” he said, stepping closer. Stiles scrambled back as the centaur leaned in close. 

“The- the map! Of the school!”

“Where is this mystical map?”

“Scott! Scott has it!” Stiles said. Scott had been the last one to hold it, complaining Stiles didn’t know how to read it properly. 

“Who’s Scott?” he asked, and another step, he would have stepped _on_ Stiles, but at that moment Scott came thrashing through the brush with- _a baby troll_ , wielding a tree trunk larger than he was. 

Scott was yelling, “AHHHHHHHH!” and had his wand raised like a club. Startled, the centaurs scattered, but not before giving Stiles one last look. “STILES I’M HERE TO SAVE YOU!” he yelled, but then looked around. He slowed down, although the baby troll didn’t, and was still smashing things with it’s tree. Scott looked rather surprised that it worked, and like he expected a fight. “Oh god, I thought you’d been eaten alive or something, you’ve been gone for hours!”

“I’m okay! But thanks, dude,” he said, hugging him, “Though I coulda had it from there.”

Scott grinned, patting him on the back, “Sure.” Stiles walked over to the stump of a tree, and picked up his discarded wand. Scott turned to the troll, who was now smashing things tiredly, and looked rather interested in the moss at the bottom of the tree. “Hey, buddy, its okay!” 

The troll grunted, and padded back over to Scott. Scott’s smile was blinding. “Stiles, this is Hamham, Hamham this is Stiles.”

Stiles mouthed, _‘Hamham?’_ Scott just shrugged. 

“We uh, met,” Scott said. _Battled with ~love~ more like_ , Stiles thought, “when I was looking for you.” With the baby troll in tow, shrugging, he said, “He thinks I’m his mother. Or brother. I don’t really speak troll.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, and said, “Where’s Lydia now?”

\---

It turned out, she was surprisingly close to the edge of the forest. It only took them about forty minutes to reach her from their position, but they had to double back to drop Hamham back off where Scott found him- “Dude you can’t _keep_ him!” “Bye, Hamham, I’ll come visit!”-  which took another twenty minutes.

When they spotted her, her hair was wild and she was covered in dirt, and was leaning against a tree. “Lydia!” they both yelled, and she turned to them, covering herself up, as she was completely naked. 

She was shivering and looked at them, "Well? Is anyone going to get me a coat?" 

And Stiles did, practically falling over himself to give his jacket to her, Scott taking off his robes too. Stiles- he still had a crush on her, but it’s- it was fading, he could tell. This- this was the point where they really became friends (there are some things you can never come out of without being friends, and finding her in the forest, naked, is apparently one of them.)

\---

Stiles had his arm around Lydia, helping her out of the last bit of woods, when he heard a twig snap, and he turned to be face to face with Professor Argent’s lit wand. He yelled, and Argent sighed, lowering his wand. “I should have known it was going to be you setting off the perimeter sensors.”

“Uh, yes, me! And Lydia!” Stiles said, Lydia, who was still shaking, and wearing nothing but his and Scott’s robes. “Just the two of us!”

“Where’s your usual partner in crime?” Chris Argent said.

“Oh, um, Scott? He said he wanted to get a good night sleep before the game tomorrow. Um, practice! Not game. The game was last weekend.”

He waved his wand around the trees, but didn’t see anything, so he sighed, and said, “Well, we should probably get you two inside-” when there was a thrashing in the woods behind them, and Scott came through the trees.

“Hey Stiles, I found where we dropped the ma- oh, hey, Professor Argent, we, uh,” he pointed to Lydia, “we found Lydia!”

Professor Argent sighed, and said, “Back to the castle, all of you, now,” and ushered with his wand. Stiles marched on first, followed by Scott, and then a shivering Lydia, who had her arms wrapped around herself. Chris shrugged off his cloak, and handed it to her, to go over Stiles’ shirt and Scott’s sweater. 

When they reached the castle, Chris handed Lydia (now wearing his robes too) off to Madam Morrell, who was standing at the door with her arms crossed, looking worried. She put her arm around Lydia and led her away, but not before she could whisper, “It was Peter,” but she didn’t say another word.

Chris led them into his office and leaned on his desk as the two of them sat sheepishly in the chairs in front of him. He crossed his arms, and asked, “How did you know she was going to be in the woods?”

Stiles glanced at scott, who was looking nervous. It wasn’t like they could tell him they’d had a secret map of the school since first year. “We- it was the only place left to look,” Stiles said, and nodded, glancing at Scott, who joined in.

Professor Argent looked between them, and with no other choice but to believe them, he sighed again, and said, “For recovering Ms. Martin, both of you will receive twenty-five house points.” They looked between each other, unable to believe their luck. “But,” he said, and Stiles groaned. “all three of you will be deducted one hundred house points from each of your respective houses for being in the Forbidden Forest in the first place.”

“Don’t do it again, boys.”

“No, sir,” they scrambled to say, and then hurried out of his office.

\---

Following her silence after her admittance to the hospital wing, Lydia didn’t speak for another two days. But after that, she seemed perfectly fine. The way they figured it, when she was lost in the woods for three days, she didn’t have the chance to take the amortentia, and it wore off. 

The following morning, Stiles and Scott, finally having confirmation of the suspicions they’d had all year, went to the greenhouses directly after breakfast to confront Peter Hale. When they arrived, he was reading a newspaper, and flipped it down, frowning. “You’re not my morning class.”

Stiles went right up and punched him, and wow that felt good. “Stiles!” Scott yelled, and grabbed his arm. “He’s still a professor!”

“Yeah, but a dirty little-”

“Professor,” Peter said, folding the newspaper. “I see you’ve come about Lydia.”

“Why’d you do it, you filthy-” 

“Troll? Dragon? Mudblood?” Peter supplied, “although that last one certainly isn’t true.” Stiles made a frustrated noise, and Peter shrughed, “She’s a banshee, I needed to know things and get things done. Plus, I have a thing for redheads.”

“You couldn’t have just _asked_ her?”

“She’s fifteen!” Scott said, with a disgusted look on his face. “And she isn’t even a whole banshee!”

Peter shrugged again, “Thanks to _you_ two, I’m sixteen right now.” 

“What makes you think we won’t tell the headmaster about this?”

“You would have already- plus, your precious Lydia would be expelled from Hogwarts if it were revealed she was the one who poisoned the school. And you wouldn’t want that, now would you?”

Stiles narrowed his eyes, “Don’t try anything like this again. Keep away from her.”

He held up his hands, “Scout’s honor.”

Stiles made a disgusted noise as the two of them left the greenhouse, and said, “I still don’t trust him. And I hate him. C’mon, lets to see if Lydia is up yet.”

\---

The next day, Isaac woke up, and Lydia was talking. When Scott and Stiles burst into the hospital wing (getting “Shh!”s from the nurses, and dirty looks from Madam Morrell) they saw Lydia being interrogated by the ministry people, and passed a kid in a bed with leeches all over his face. Isaac was in bed across from Lydia, both of his neighbors poison victims- although they were fine, sitting up and mostly just resting- and awake and alert. On the bedside were lots of gifts, candies and the card from Quidditch, as well as the wilted dandelions.

All the rest of their friends were there, and Danny had managed to sneak Jackson the Rat in. Isaac grinned when he saw them, and then looked around at all the other people in the hospital wing, asking, “What did I miss?”

The group exchanged looks, and Allison took a breath, and said, “Where to begin…” Stiles and Scott filled them in the night they found Lydia, after everyone was woken up with the commotion of finding her- who didn’t actually remember much from the last couple of months, or the three days.

\---

Lydia was released from the hospital days later, and her first day back from classes, Allison and Lydia went to see her up in Ravenclaw tower. Standing in her open doorway, Allison asked, “Are you sure you’re ready to go back to class? You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. We’ll still cover you.”

“Of course I do,” Lydia said from her vanity, where she was putting on makeup. “I’m already so far behind on the things we’ve _already_ covered! And I haven’t studied for O.W.L.s since November.” Allison smiled, hiding her giggle. There was her Lydia. She held her head up high, and said, “Someone tried to hurt _me_ , I don’t have to hide.” 

“Okay, lets go then!” Stiles said, and the three of them went down to their classes, Lydia finally going to Herbology and pretending Peter wasn’t even there.

As soon as Lydia stepped back into the classroom, everyone turned to stare, but she moved on, with her head held high. There were whispers for weeks, speculation of what made her do it, but nothing close to the truth. Lydia’s personal favorite was that she had gone into the woods to shed her rosy skin and become a full fledged banshee. 

\---

The last week of the month passed quickly with boring History of Magic and other lessons, Stiles practically sleeping through them. Soon enough it was April first and Stiles was heading down to breakfast. Allison was already sitting there, a piece of toast in her mouth.

“Hey Ali,” he said, and she mumbled something that might have been ‘hey.’

“So I was thinking-” Stiles started, at the same time Allison said, “So I was thinking-”

“Hey you’re saying the same thing-” he said, and at the time time, “Hey you’re saying the same thing-”

“Stop, Allison!” he said. “Stop, Allison!” She shook her head, apparently unable to.

“Allison do you have a repeating charm on you?” Stiles was alarmed, but Allison looked like she was about to laugh.

“Allison do you have a repeating charm on you?” she repeated. She couldn’t help it, she broke down laughing, Boyd across the table from them joining. Between her giggles, she said, “No! I was just reading your lips!” he pushed her off the bench, and she just laughed on the ground.

\---

Two weeks into the month, the potions that were brewing to reage Professor Hale were finished, and Madam Morrell called him down to her office to drink it. None of the normal reversal potions or aging spells worked correctly, so they had to wait the four and a half months for that particular one to brew. The next day, he showed up to Stiles’ Herbology class looking just as he did the first time they saw him, completely himself. 

That same day, Stiles found the Sneakoscope he’d dropped behind his dresser, and gave it to Lydia, “Because you need it,” to assure her.

\---

Easter passed with the arrival of easter eggs from Allison’s mother, Stiles’ filled with his favorites: Every Flavor Beans, and chocolate frogs. Scott’s had a couple of frogs too, so they spent Easter Sunday trading them and playing wizard chess on the set Stiles had gotten him for Christmas, and mostly not leaving the Hufflepuff common room the entire day. They still had to study for exams, but it was nothing like Lydia, who seemed to be making up not only for her fourth year finals, but also O.W.L. studying too. 

\---

May came and went with a flurry of homework and classes. Since it was the summer term, they spent as much time outside as they could, listening to Scott’s radio. Scott and Stiles sat by the lake with their homework piled around them, and occasionally Erica joined them, especially when Boyd went swimming in the Black Lake. The only reason the radio worked at Hogwarts was that radios actually ran on magic, not batteries. Stiles got into a fight with Boyd over it because Boyd was adamant that it really did run on batteries, and they ended up not speaking for two days. Which sucked, because they had all of the same classes, practically. 

Erica had started borrowing copies of magazines from all the Houses common rooms (because it wasn’t like it was hard for her to get into any of them) like _Transfiguration Today_ , _Witch Weekly_ , and even _The Quibbler_ (after which she insisted on wearing the Spectrespecs they came with, to piss off all of her teachers), and quoted them at everyone. One afternoon, while an older song from the Weird Sisters was playing on the radio, and Boyd was swimming with the giant squid, Erica sat up and said, “Did you know you can take a holiday to climb beasts in Romania? _Witch Holiday? Magazine_ says they’re ‘fun for the whole family.’”

“Um, no, I didn’t,” Scott said, “I’ll, uh, tell my mom next time she wants to take us somewhere boring for a holiday, like my grandma’s.”

Another time, she was lying on her back, in the sun, when she dropped the magazine she was holding up onto her chest, and said, “ _Knitter’s Own_ is giving away £100 worth of yarn. I wonder if I can submit my name by owl.”

“Do you even knit?” 

She shrugged. “Not really.”

\---

With exams steadily approaching, classes were finishing up on all of the leftover material they hadn’t yet taught. Transfiguration had started perfecting their Cross-Species switches, Kettlewig had started hinting their revised Seize-and-Pull Charms would be on their exam, and Harris had them all making foul-smelling Girding Potions. 

In Potions, shortly before their exams, they had to make a Wit-Sharpening Potion. So Scott and Stiles spent the morning frantically mixing armadillo bile, grinding Scarab beetles, and mixing the potion into various colors of the rainbow. As the potion was simmering, Scott and Stiles started chopping the ginger roots, in preparation for mixing them into the cauldron. The potion was currently purple, and it looked like it was going to turn out correct. Maybe they were getting better at it after all!

“We’re gonna need one of these in a few days,” Scott said, and Stiles snickered.

“Think Harris’ll notice if we take a couple vials?” Stiles asked.

“Yes,” Harris said. 

\---

The exams started with History of Magic, and Erica was the only person who actually felt confident in her answers. Stiles and Scott had spent the previous evening memorizing a list of goblins, but promptly forgotten them as they sat down. 

Charms had them practicing Banishing Charms, much to everyone’s delight. Kettlewig only got hit in the forehead with an eraser once, and Transfiguration turned out to be the exact same thing they’d practiced the week before. Lydia didn’t even show up for her Herbology exam, but got full marks anyway. 

And there was a correction to his thought earlier that month. They were not getting better at potions at all. Scott and Stiles exited the exam pretty sure that had not only not cured Todd’s poisoning, but that they’d made him worse. Harris had come along behind them (sighing) and dropping drops of his perfected antidote on Todd, before Scott stuffed him in his pocket and promised he wouldn’t let him ever get poisoned again.

Boyd and Isaac passed the Care of Magical Creatures written exam with flying colors, even though Isaac had slept through at least three lessons. 

\---

The End-of-Term feast was brilliant as usual. Nobody was poisoned, and no one was cursed or had an overdose of Love Potion which made them run naked through the woods. Erica’s addition to the Slytherin team really did the job- her victory in Quidditch, as she’d won them the Quidditch Cup for the year, had added over a hundred House points to her hourglass.

As soon as Stiles and his friends walked into the Great Hall for the leaving feast, they knew who’d won the Inter-House Cup. Stiles had been much too preoccupied by other things to pay much attention this year, but he still felt a bit disappointed when he saw Slytherin’s color up there. Erica was going to be insufferable for weeks. 

Of course, they’d gotten points for finding Lydia, but all three of them lost more than they’d gained, but everyone was in good spirits anyway- especially Erica, who was gloating with her whole table. Professor Vanity at the staff table was looking especially pleased; Harris looking dour, and pushing his carrots around. 

The evening went off without a hitch, and the next morning they all sailed back to London, Stiles departing the train and waving goodbye to all his friends. Well, mostly without a hitch. There was _one_ …

"I love you."

"I love you more," Allison giggled. 

Scott joined her, heads bent together, "No, I love _you_ more." 

"Oh my _god_ Scott, we get that you love her!" Stiles groaned, "come _on_ , your mom is waiting!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEW CHAPTER SHOULD BE UP IN A MONTH! ITS SUMMEEEEEERRRRR! (Assuming my book arrives soon...) This was also my longest chapter yet. Sorry. They're getting longer. I'm never going this detailed again.
> 
> And as of next chapter, we'll see the rise of some characters from season 3A that you might have thought I'd forgotten... and the return of a departed character! (She'll only be here for the year, but it won't be the last time you see or hear from her.)
> 
> \---
> 
> Year 5: Triskelion 
> 
> Fifth year is the year the tri-wizard tournament is held at Hogwarts, and okay they can't technically enter but there's a whole influx of new students for them to harass and Stiles thinks Danny and Lydia might be sharing the same boyfriend. Unless they're twins. Which makes sense.


	5. Year Five: Triskelion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fifth year is the year the Triwizard Tournament is held at Hogwarts, and okay they can't technically enter but there's a whole influx of new students for them to harass and Stiles thinks Danny and Lydia might be sharing the same boyfriend. Unless they're twins. Which makes sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I ever tell you guys I was a Slytherin? I have a huge soft spot for my house, and by extension, Erica. (Also Peter, but.) And I just realized my best friends cat looks just like I’d pictured Seline, just her cat is a boy named Love. 
> 
> I’m so fucking sorry I’m like two months late on delivering this chapter but I just got so fucking busy and I was literally taking three classes even though it was like July and I want to die. Save me.
> 
> NOTE*** Aiden/Lydia isn't endgame, so ignore the really big tag up there.

That summer, Stiles hadn’t actually gotten to see Scott very much apart from the first week home, during which they didn’t move off Scott’s couch. Scott was busy with Allison and Isaac, and then he went on vacation with his mom- Stiles didn’t blame him, Allison was awesome, and Isaac practically lived at Scott’s over holidays. The week Scott came back, Stiles went to see his dad's parents. He did accidentally get to see Boyd and Erica, though, because he accidentally found himself in their fireplace instead of Scott's on one occasion, so they invited him in and he watched movies on the couch with them for an entire afternoon. Seline was pleased to see him.

But summer was nearly over, and Stiles was running late. “Dad!” Stiles called, throwing his bed things everywhere- he’d already searched the couch- looking for his wand, “Can I have mom’s key? I’m running late to meet Lydia!” he said, and tossed a pillow aside, “AH HA!” he yelled, grabbing the Beech wand. He ducked into the kitchen- where apparently his dad was not- and then into his dad’s bedroom. Stilinski was looking through his keyring for the little gold one; it shouldn’t have been all that hard to find, except DI Stilinski had more keys than anyone Stiles had ever met, due to his being the head of the department at Scotland Yard. 

Finding it, Stilinski pried apart the key ring, and then said, “Here, catch!” as he tossed it to Stiles. 

“Whoa!” Stiles said, nearly letting it drop as he fumbled to catch it. 

“Ya know Stiles,” his father said, putting his keyring back into his pant’s pocket, “the vault isn’t your mother’s anymore. I had it switched over to your name when you were at Scott’s this summer,” he said, and then chuckled, “Your friend Allison’s dad- Chris- helped me with it. It seems you're old enough to handle this kind of responsibly, Stiles." 

“What? Are you serious? Awesome!” he said, stuffing the key into his own pocket. Glancing up at the clock, he jumped up, “Oh shit! Sorry dad, gotta go!” Stiles ran into the study, and threw a handful of floo powder into the fire, hopping in. With a rush of cool fire and wind, Stiles appeared in one of the community fireplaces. He looked around as he stepped out, and finally spotted Lydia, standing with her back to him in the exact same place he saw her five years before- and he loves her, he does, just not the same way he thought he was going to. 

He tapped her on the shoulder, and said, “Ready?”

Lydia whirled around, nodding. “Do you have the list?”

Stiles nodded, and pulled it from his pocket. “The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, by Miranda Goshawk, and Defensive Magical Theory, by Wilbert Slinkhard.” Stiles read off, “And we have to get- uh, dress robes?” he said, confused. He looked up, “What for? We’ve never needed those before.”

“I already have mine,” Lydia said, plucking the list from Stiles’ hands. “Allison and I went shopping with her mother. You and Scott can get them later.”

“Wait, I gotta withdraw from my Gringotts’ account, I only have a couple Galleons in my pouch,” Stiles said, shaking the leather pouch he carried his money in. Lydia nodded, and the two of them headed towards the imposing marble building that towered over all of the other crowded shops. When they entered, all the goblins stared at them as though they expected the two teenagers to attempt to rob them. Stiles approached the desk, and said to the goblin, “I’d like to make a withdrawal from my vault,” he pulled the key from his pocket and pushed it over to the goblin. He looked from the key to Stiles, and then hopped down from the podium and headed to the mine cart. 

Stiles and Lydia followed and climbed in, and the goblin roller coaster took them downwards in a series of high speed jerks and turns, until they stopped in front of Stiles’ vault. The goblin stepped out and unlocked it, pushing the door open for Stiles, who went in and scooped up nearly a dozen galleons, a few sickles and knuts, and climbed back into the cart with Lydia. 

“Would you like to open your vault?” the goblin croaked to Lydia. Lydia shook her head, clutching her bright pink purse. Then they were off again, up towards the surface, and they were all departing. Stiles waved goodbye to the goblin- who ignored him- and the two of them exited Gringotts.

As they were walking towards Flourish and Blotts, pockets and purses full of Galleons, Stiles noticed something catch the light on Lydia’s chest. He stopped, realizing what it was. She turned and raised an eyebrow, as he said, “Lydia, what’s that pinned to your shirt?” She turned and smiled, the pin, bronze and blue with a large P superimposed, pinned to her breast of her shirt. 

“Took you long enough to notice,” she said proudly, “It’s my prefect badge. It arrived with my letter a few days ago.”

“Wow- I mean, wow, Lydia, thats awesome!” he said, grinning. She smiled back.

“Now- books, or do you want my first year as a prefect to be woefully unprepared?” she said, and lead the way. As soon as they were finished- books in hand- she asked, “Do we need to go anywhere else? I have most of my supplies left over from last year,” she said, “and all of my robes still fit.”

Stiles shook his head, “My robes still have their charms.”

“Ice cream, then?” Lydia said, and Stiles nodded. The two of them were to meet Scott, Isaac, and Allison at the parlour later that day, the three of them having gone shopping by themselves. Stiles didn’t feel left out- much- he had Lydia, after all, who was turning out to be one of his good friends.

As they rounded the bend, Stiles spotted Allison, already with a dark red ice pop, leaning in close with Isaac and Scott, all three laughing with their heads bent together. When Allison looked up, she grinned and waved, her lips stained bright red. The two of them crossed the cobblestone street, meeting up with their three friends, when Allison said to Lydia, “Lets go get the rest of the ice creams,” standing up. “It’s nice to see you Stiles, do you want anything?”

“It’s nice to see you too, Ali,” he said, and then said, “Uh, strawberry and peanut butter, please!” she made a face but laughed.

“Lydia?”

“Coming!” she said, and stepped over to Allison’s side. Allison already knew what Scott wanted, but Isaac hurriedly stood up.

“Wait I’m coming too!” and hurried after the girls. As soon as the three of them were gone, Scott turned to Stiles.

“What’s up?”

Stiles looked after the retreating forms of his other friends. He sighed, “I saw you guys earlier and… I don’t know, it seems like something’s changed- I barely saw you all summer, dude! I feel like I’ve been replaced or something.”

Scott shook his head, with half a grin on his face, “No, Stiles, of course not, you’re still my best friend,” and then looked around, grinning, and said, “Over the summer, Isaac kissed me.”

Stiles was suddenly glad he hadn’t been given an ice cream yet, he probably would have spit it out. “Umm, what about Allison?” Scott and Allison were like… the thing. Sure they broke up every other month, but still. They were the couple.

Scott grinned even wider, “She’s, surprisingly, okay with it. She said she’s kinda liked him for awhile, but she loves me, and she said that she was pretty sure Isaac kinda liked her too.” 

“Wait, so does that mean you guys are all together now? All three of you?” Stiles said, waving his hands. 

“Yep!” And then Stiles grabbed his arm, and asked, "wait, is this what you were talking about last year?" Around Valentines’ Day earlier that year, Scott had come around asking if it were possible to love two people at once. Stiles hadn’t had a clue to what he was talking about, but said, uh, sure, anyway.

Scott furrowed his eyebrows, “Yeah,” and then “So you’re like, okay with this?” 

He looked worried, but Stiles just clapped him on the back, and said, “Scott, you’re my brother, and you know I’ll support you no matter what, but I am not telling her dad.” Scott’s face paled. 

“Oh no.”

\---

The first to arrive to the train and their usual compartment was Danny, surprisingly. He was already sitting there when Stiles and Scott dragged their trunks into the compartment (it had gotten easier as of late, when they were no longer smaller than the trunk, and they had like, some semblance of muscles from Quidditch.) After they’d finished banging around with their trunks, and plopped down on the row across from Danny, Stiles sat up, and said, pointing, “You’re a prefect too!” his badge was identical to Lydia’s, pinned to his robes.

Danny grinned proudly, “I’m not even supposed to be sitting here with all of you, we prefects have our own compartment at the front of the train, where we’re supposed to get our instructions, but I couldn’t wait to show my badge off.”

Scott scooted towards the edge of the seat, grinning, and said, “That’s so cool, Danny!” 

“I can’t imagine why we wouldn’t get them,” Stiles said, sarcastically, and exchanged glances with Scott, who simultaneously broke into laughter. If anyone wasn’t going to get one, it’d be the two of them. Really, if anyone else of the group would get one, it’d be Boyd, but he’d hate the responsibility, and the fact he’d have to give all his friends detention every other week. Lydia and Danny weren’t quite as sentimental.

Speaking of, Lydia appeared in the doorway shortly after, and dragged Danny to the bowels of the train. And minutes later, Isaac and Allison, who’d been on the platform, pulled their trunks into the train, and joined them. And, like Stiles had thought, Boyd and Erica showed up ten minutes before the train was set to arrive, both lacking prefect badges. (Erica would likely have abused her power far too much, even on her own house.

The whole ride to Hogwarts was pleasant as usual, if not strangely lacking as Lydia and Danny barely stopped by during the ride (their duties called). Scott and Stiles spent a good hour after the trolley came by trying to throw Every Flavor Beans into each other’s mouths from across the compartment, only to accidentally ram into their friends while trying to catch wayward beans.

Around an hour before they were set to arrive at Hogwarts, the light fading outside the window, Kira stuck her head in their compartment, and said, “Hey Scott!” 

Isaac, who was laying across the opposite seat, waved. Scott sat up from where he was leaning back to catch a bean (cat hair flavored?) in his mouth, and grinned, “Hi Kira!”

She tugged at her dress, where a prefect pin, in yellow and black, was pinned, and said, “Look who they picked to be prefect!” 

“That’s awesome!” Scott said, genuinely happy for her.

Kira was grinning broadly, and said, “They picked Tommy too, he’ll probably be by to say hi later. I have to go, I have more patrolling to do!”

\---

When at last they arrived (Allison was still finding missing beans down her shirt and in her pockets), Danny and Lydia finally appeared, having been let off their duties until after the feast, grabbing Allison and Isaac and pulling them into one of the carriages with them. As Stiles climbed into the following carriages after them, he took note of the Thestrals. They were never really all that strange to him- sure, they looked kinda like reptile horses, but he’d seen them every year since he’d been at Hogwarts; they were hardly scarier than the Skrewts (that wasn’t a very good comparison, the Skrewts were terrifying). Probably the strangest thing to him was the fact none of his other friends were able to see them.

Shaking it off, Stiles sat beside Scott, who handed him Todd, and wiped his slimy hands on his pants. “So what do you guys think the dress robes are for?” Scott asked.

Erica and Boyd exchanged looks, the former saying, “You mean you don’t know?” Scott and Stiles shook their heads.

Boyd said, “Just wait, we think they announce it at dinner,” he said, smiling, glancing out the window as they passed the winged boars atop the stone pillars at the gates, “I can’t wait. This is gonna be awesome.”

\---

The rest of the students were herded into the Great Hall by Chris Argent as Deaton was still rowing the first years across the Black Lake, everyone stumbling to find their seats. The hall was decorated as usual, with a ceiling of floating candles, and gleaming golden plates at every seat. The fifth table- which was packed with teachers along one side- was almost unusually full. Several of the teachers who almost never showed up were seated beside their colleagues. Stiles spotted Peter Hale and shot him a glare, but Peter either didn’t see or ignored him. 

Soon, the room quieted when Professor Argent lead the usual group of terrified first years, the sorting hat sung it’s usual song, and a fourth of the new students were sorted into Stiles’ house. The table exploded with it’s usual enthusiasm, clapping loudly for every new student to take a seat with them. Nearly-Headless Nick came by and winked at them all, showing off his party trick (much to the first years’ horror), as Deaton slid into his seat, and Chris Argent called out the last name, “Umstad, Yelena.” 

“SLYTHERIN!” the sorting hat called, and the blonde girl took her seat over at Erica’s table. Moments later, the plates filled with food, and everyone dug in.

Stiles made an ungodly noise as he bit into the lamb chop.Talking with his mouth full, he said, “I missed this food.” He filled his plate with nearly a dozen other things, nearly being the last one in the Great Hall to finish. However, like Boyd and Erica, the rest of the room seemed to know something was going on, and the room had a buzz of excitement to it. 

Everyone was watching Professor Davis in his high-backed golden chair, the man seeming to enjoy making them wait. Finally, he stood up, and said, “Welcome, welcome! It’s good to see so many familiar faces returning to us, and so many new ones! As my first order of business, I must inform you the Inter-House Quidditch cup will not take place this year!”

“What?” Stiles said, as a knee-jerk reaction. 

“I just made the team!” Boyd protested, and even Allison was frowning. 

Professor Davis just held up his hand, and waited for them to finish. “This is due to an event taking place at Hogwarts this year, which will take most of the facility’s attention. This year, the Triwizard Tournament will be held at Hogwarts!”

The crowd broke into an excited murmur, Allison’s eyes lighting up, “Oh, this is exciting!”

“How did you two know?” Stiles asked Boyd loudly, over the excitement. 

“Erica knows all the connected Slytherins!”

Davis cleared his throat, and continued, “The Triwizard Tournament was established over seven hundred years ago to promote friendly relations between the three largest European schools of Wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. From each school a champion over the age of seventeen is selected, and with the other two champions, competes in three magical tasks. As some of the older students might remember, the tournament is held every five years, and it is considered an excellent way of establishing ties between students of different nationalities.

“The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their selected contenders and observers in October, and the night of Halloween an impartial judge will select the students who are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money.”

Even though Davis said only those of age could enter, nearly every student around Stiles- Stiles himself, even- were imagining themselves as the tournament winner with dream looks upon their faces. “The impartial judge won’t be fooled, so don’t bother trying to submit your name if you’re under seventeen,” Davis said. “The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October, and will be staying with us for most of the year, so all of you must extend your greatest courtesy to our guests while they are with us, and will support our own champion when he or she is selected. But now it is late, and-”

Chris Argent cleared his throat and gave a pointed look at the headmaster, who said, "Oh, yes, and the fifth years are reminded that the Forbidden Forest is forbidden for a reason." Half the student body turned to stare at Lydia- who pointedly ignored them- the others at Scott and Stiles, while all the first years looked around confused. “Now you are dismissed!” he said, and all of the students- excited and exhausted- stood up and headed up to their dormitories. Stiles spotted the two new prefects from his own house- Arthur Brimble, and Lily Wilson- shepherding the new first years up to the dorms after them. 

Scott caught up with him as they exited the Great Hall. “Would you have expected that? I didn’t!” he said, “Emily told me all the stories her mom told her- apparently a lot of people died in the tournaments, which is why they stopped them for like a hundred years.”

“What, really?”

Scott nodded, “But the thousand Galleons prize money would have been nice,” he sighed. 

\---

The next morning, Stiles and his friends dressed and headed down to breakfast, Stiles spotting the date of the first Hogsmeade trip in October up on the common room notice board. Down at breakfast, Stiles spotted several of his Quidditch friends at one end of the table- Cooper and Ana were sitting side by side, and Malia a few people down from them. Stiles had almost forgotten Marcus graduated, and had they not had the Triwizard tournament that year, they’d be holding Quidditch Trials. 

Just as they sat down, the owls swooped in with a whoosh and clatter, dropping parcels and newspapers all over. Stiles’ copy of the Daily Prophet landed on top of his plate, and he picked it up, shaking off the dirt it had collected. Flipping it open, Boyd asked from across the table, “Anything interesting?”

Stiles flipped through it, and then shook his head, “Nothing out of the ordinary, just a couple of unhappy goblins staging a protest, and some wizard embezzled funds from his Dueling Club.”

“Wow,” Allison said, “Can I see?”

“Sure,” he said, and handed it over. 

\---

Their first lesson after breakfast, as always, was Defense Against the Dark Arts, taught by Professor Argent, Allison’s dad. When they arrived in the classroom, there were instructions written on the board, as well as course aims:

1\. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic. 

2\. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.

3\. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

Professor Argent was sitting at his desk, and when the class filled in, he smiled up at them. “I know this curriculum sounds like a drag, but as O.W.L.s are approaching, it’s high time all of you learn the theory of defensive magic, as well as the laws in which defensive magic applies. Wands away-” when they groaned, Argent shook his head, “and quills out. You’ll be wanting notes on these, you never can tell what will be on your exams,” he winked. “For the first few lessons we’ll be going over the basics, and then we’ll get to the fun stuff.” After that, everyone was much happier to get to work- they wanted to pass so they could keep taking the class, after all. 

After taking notes on the principles of defensive magic- which wasn’t actually quite as dreadful as they’d feared- Stiles, Allison, and Boyd marched down to Herbology with the rest of their house to meet up with the Ravenclaws. As they approached, the door to the greenhouse swung open, and the fourth years spilled out, a few of them waving to Stiles’ housemates. 

To everyone’s surprise, Peter Hale was the only one not to lecture them on the importance of O.W.L.s that entire week. Instead, he simply assigned them an essay, and then let them have free reign of the greenhouse. Afterwards, they retreated back to their common room to work on what was surely going to become a large pile of homework, smelling strongly of dragon dung.

\---

It seemed Tuesdays were their busiest days, with nearly four lessons in a row. Right after breakfast, Stiles, Boyd, Scott and Isaac all headed down to the usual paddock for their Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Deaton was waiting outside of his cabin for them all to arrive, with a table laden with twigs. When it seemed the entire class was there, he asked, “Does anyone know what these things are?” 

Scott raised his hand eagerly, “I do, Professor! They’re Bowtruckles.”

Deaton smiled, “Good job, Scott. Five points to Hufflepuff,” Scott beamed. “Does anyone know what they eat?”

Tommy Button raised his hand, “Woodlice, or fairy eggs,” he said.

“Another five points to Hufflepuff! Excellent, Mr. Button.” With the sound of his voice, the Bowtruckles jumped up, revealing themselves to be tiny, pixie-like creatures made of wood. They had knobby arms and legs, with twig-like fingers and a flat face, with a pair of beetle-like eyes. Several of Stiles classmates shrieked in alarm. “Keep it down!” Deaton ordered, scattering what looked like brown rice- but were likely woodlice. “Bowtruckles live in wand trees, and are often thought of as tree guardians. They may look harmless, but if you threaten them or their tree, it’s best to have woodlice or fairy eggs handy, or else they might take a stab at gouging your eyes out with their fingers.” Isaac took a step back. “So everyone gather close, and take a Bowtruckle- one to a group of four- and a couple of woodlice. I want a drawing of them with their body parts labeled by the end of class.” 

Boyd had grabbed one before anyone else had gotten the chance, and was sitting cross-legged in the grass with Isaac trying to persuade it to be still. “Isaac, hold it for a minute,” Stiles heard Boyd say as he and Scott maneuvered around the rest of the class. 

They plopped down in the grass beside them, just as Isaac said, “Not a chance! You hold it, I’ll draw its face, and you can copy me.”

\---

Just like in DADA of the previous day, Professor Vanity also lectured them on the importance of O.W.L.s, “You must do your best! These examinations not only decide what classes you’re allowed to take- I’m only accepting students next year who make an ‘E’ on my exam- but also what careers you are eligible for!” everyone groaned- they didn’t want to think about exams, much less careers- “So today we’ll begin on Vanishing Spells, which are by far easier than Conjuring Spells, which we won’t begin to work on until next year.” 

By the end of the lesson, barely anyone had managed to vanish their snails- Boyd was convinced his looked paler, and Erica told Vanity that she was so terrible at it that she mustn't be capable of such spells, so she should be exempt. Everyone got homework on the subject, and they were told to practice the spells the following day in preparation for a fresh go at the snails the following class. 

In History of Magic, Professor Binns continued to drone on about the horribly boring subjects, but Stiles was just glad they’d moved on from goblin rebellions to the giant wars. He couldn’t wait to cease studying the class- even Erica was going to, and she was the only person he knew who actually enjoyed the class. They ended up with a foot and a half of essay on the giant wars, which sent them all to lunch in a gloomy mood.

Similarly, in Charms, Kettlewig spent twenty minutes talking about O.W.L.s and then they began reviewing Summoning Charms, which she hinted at as being on their O.W.L.s, and sent them off with homework. 

\---

By the time they’d gotten around to Potions on Wednesday, Stiles wasn’t at all looking forward to spending an hour with Professor Harris, but when he entered the classroom, he simply sighed, and said, “As all of you well know, this coming June will host your O.W.L.s, and I expect all of you to keep on track, despite the games Hogwarts is hosting this year.” Everyone was boredly paying attention, and across the room Braeden was practically falling asleep. “While all of you might be able to scrape up an ‘O’ with your successive grades combined, I expect nothing less than an ‘Acceptable’ from each of you,” he said, sitting down at his desk with another sigh.

“Today’s lesson is to concoct a Draught of Peace,” he said, and with a flick of his wand, the ingredients and method were on the blackboard. “It often appears on your Ordinary Wizarding Level, so don’t screw it up.” 

With a flurry of stirring in precisely the right ways- clockwise and counterclockwise, a certain amount of times- and dropping the exact amount of ingredients, at the right time, the class spent the next hour brewing the potion. 

By the end of the lesson, Scott and Stiles had somewhat decent potions- of course, they were nothing like the perfect one Kira had brewed, or even the slightly-okay one James Swern had brewed right behind Stiles, with their potions giving off the light silver mist it was supposed to. At least Stiles and Scott’s were the right color- Isaac’s flame had died out, and Allison was looking back and forth from the board to her cauldron, trying to figure out what she’d missed to make it go so horribly wrong. 

Harris didn’t look up from his papers when he said, “Fill a flagon with your potion, label it clearly with your name and drop it on my desk for testing. Homework is twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and it’s use in potion-making, due next Friday. Dismissed.” 

\---

“I can’t believe how much homework we’ve got,” Allison said, shaking her head, as they all sat down for study hall on Thursday afternoon. The day had set them with another round of homework, to add onto their massive pile.

“I’ll write your moonstone essay for Potions if you copy down the rest of my Bowtruckle drawing,” Stiles said. He’d finished his essay the day before, but he was just really awful at drawing, and he knew he’d get points off no matter how well he did it. But he’d perfected the art of forging handwriting with his dad’s signature, and was quite capable of copying down his entire essay in slightly different words. 

Allison narrowed her eyes, but then said, “Fine,” and they swapped papers. 

“Anyone have the answers for Transfig?” Boyd asked, but nobody seemed to have done that yet either. Grumbling, he got to work.

\---

Saturday evening, however, found Isaac and Allison lounging in the Gryffindor common room, laying on one sofa, lazily kissing in front of the fire. They’d both finished their homework (something that Scott had yet to do), and decided to engage in much more fun activities, when a certain teacher passed through the common room. When he spotted them on the couch, his eyes bugged out, “Allison,” Chris Argent said, through gritted teeth. “My office. Now.” Allison and Isaac jumped back, startled.

“Dad!” Allison said, pulling herself away from Isaac.

“You too, Isaac,” he said. “Follow me.” Allison looked at Isaac sheepishly, and grabbed his hand. They followed him to his office, where he put his hand on Isaac’s shoulder, and said, “Wait out here.” Then he pulled Allison into his office, and Isaac strained to hear what they were saying, until- 

"ANOTHER one?" Isaac heard Professor Argent yell. Allison said something muffled in response, but Chris sighed, and said, quieter, but still loud enough for Isaac to hear, "I thought you were dating Scott? What happened?" 

"Nothing happened," Allison said calmly, "We're still dating." 

"But- so you're going to be in a relationship with both of them? How is that fair to either of them? And does Scott know?" he asked, exasperated. Isaac could practically feel it from outside the door. 

Allison sighed, and Isaac heard her say, "Of course he knows- Isaac kissed him first! Wait- before you say anything, let me explain. Nobody is cheating on anybody, we're all in this together. In a relationship. Like Aunt Melinda, the old witch who lived down the street from us when I was seven! She had two wives." 

There was another minute of quiet conversation that Isaac couldn’t quite make out, but finally, the door swung open, and Professor Argent stood in the doorway. Allison ducked under his arm, and passed him, mouthing, “Sorry.”

Chris sighed, and said, standing there, "Isaac get in here." When Isaac scrambled into his office, Professor Argent said, “So, you're also dating my daughter." 

"Uh- I mean- uh, yes sir."

\---

The first week dragged on with seemingly endless homework, lessons that appeared to last as long as History of Magic ones, and the occasional break spend outside tossing around Quaffles on broomsticks. 

Monday morning, everyone was back at breakfast. The Daily Prophet arrived for Stiles as usual, the owl narrowly missing Stiles’ cup of orange juice. The owl flew off, and watching it go, he spotted Erica receive a copy of Witch Weekly, apparently having grown fond of it in the last month of the previous year. (She’d told Boyd that all of the good coupons and free samples were gone by the time she got around to looking at it.)

Stiles pulled it open and skimmed all the headlines as usual. There wasn’t anything particularly interesting, but Madame Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions was having a sale. “Think my dad’ll go get me some new robes if I send him this?” Stiles asked.

Allison laughed, “You mean you haven’t gotten your dress robes yet?”

Stiles shook his head, “Scott either.”

“Man you guys are behind- don’t know anything about the Tournament, don’t have robes yet… even Erica has her robes already,” Boyd said, shaking his head. They’d gone shopping together as usual, and Mrs. Reyes took about a dozen pictures again. 

“At least I finished Hale’s essay on Self-Fertilizing shrubs,” Stiles jabbed.

“At least I’ve finished Inanimatus Conjurus,” Boyd mocked. Stiles stuck out his tongue at him. 

\---

The next week passed just as slowly, with Binns droning on in History, and Harris handing back their essays in Potions. Stiles received a A, while Allison received an E, which furthered his idea that Harris hated him and Scott especially, since he’d been the one to write both essays. They were also assigned an essay on Jupiter’s moons for Astronomy, and another essay for Potions, but this time on the various varieties of venom antidotes. His Strengthening Solution that day in class was at least passable, and the right shade of turquoise. 

At least in DADA they got to use their wands- they were reviewing defensive spells, and how they applied to what they read in the book (which Professor Argent agreed was rubbish, but it was part of the curriculum, and part of what they’d be tested on.)

When they made it to Transfiguration, Vanity had Gregor hand out a box of mice, and then she instructed them on learning to vanish it. “Mammals are increasingly more complex than snails,” she said, “so they’ll be much more difficult. You all know the incantation, now show me what you can do!”

\---

The following two weeks followed the same pattern of homework and lessons. They’d all managed to vanish their mice completely, and had even moved on to kittens. There was still the occasional chatter about the Triwizard Tournament, but no new news with a month left until the contestants arrived with their entourage. 

The first Hogsmeade trip of the year was the first weekend in October, with the caretaker rushing around to collect permission slips for third years. As they were departing (Isaac heading to the secret passage) Alicia came bounding up to them, “Alicia!” Allison said brightly, smiling at Boyd’s sister. “Are you coming with us?”

Alicia grinned, “If you don’t mind!”

“We don’t, do we guys?” she asked, and everyone shook their heads. “We have to meet up with-” she glanced around, but none of the teachers were near, “Isaac at Honeydukes, but if there’s anywhere you want to go after that, tell us!”

\---

Clubs, as usual, started up once again, and Stiles and his friends began attending them. Stiles and Scott attended more Dueling Club meetings- they noticed the absence of Professor Hale- Allison and Stiles attended French Club once a week, although at this point, it was simply to remain fluent, and learn the idioms and other things usually reserved for native speakers. 

However, Danny and Isaac were unable to keep attending Rat Race Club, as a month into school, and several days after the first Hogsmeade trip, Jackson the rat passed away. Danny sighed, as he wouldn’t be able to get another one for nearly a month, and arranged a little funeral for them all to attend. So the following evening, around sunset, the group marched down to the beach. 

Danny dug a small hole in the ground with his wand as they looked on, several looking as though they were about to cry- Jackson the rat had been with them for five years. Afterwards, as they headed to dinner, Scott moaned about how toads lived for fifteen years, and Todd was gonna live forever.

\---

In Potions, they continued with the Strengthening Solutions, “You’ll see they have matured nicely over the weekend,” Harris said, as he strode across the room. “You’ll collect them, and finish them this lesson. Instructions are on the board.” Stiles joined the long line of students going for their potions, grabbing his, and returning to his seat. He was distracted- mainly bored- during the lesson, and nearly put pomegranate juice in his potion instead of salamander blood. 

They’d begun the Silencing Charm in Charms, and Stiles was having surprisingly good luck at it. “Silencio!” he said, taking a jab at his raven. The raven stopped mid-screech, and looked at him with great disdain. 

Danny, on the other hand, was not having a very good time about it, “Silencio! Silencio!” he frowned, and looked at his wand, and then at Todd, whom he was borrowing. He rapped his wand on the desk a few times before trying it again, “Silencio!” Todd just croaked at him, and hopped to the edge of the desk.

“It’s not so much of a- a wave, as a jab,” Stiles said. 

“SILENCIO!” Danny said, jabbing at Todd. Still, nothing. 

“Here, take my raven. It’s harder, but probably not as stubborn as Todd,” Stiles said, and handed over his raven. Danny reluctantly took it, and Stiles went about prodding at Scott’s toad. After a moment, he’d effectively silenced him too. 

Charms was probably Danny’s worst class, and he was undoubtedly looking forward to dropping it. “Silencio!” 

\---

The remainder of the month passed with piles of homework and one too many nights staying up past midnight to finish it all. Stiles fell victim to one of Peeves’ pranks one afternoon- in which a large vase was dumped over his head- and had to be carted off to the hospital wing, Madam Morrell yelling, “PEEVES!” down the hall after him. On the way to dinner on Thursday, Stiles and Scott came across a large crowd of students milling about in the entrance hall, blocking their path.

“I wonder what’s going on?” Scott asked, standing on his tippy-toes, trying to look over the mob. They were all looking at a large sign that had been put up at the foot of the marble staircase. 

“I don’t know, but I want to find out,” Stiles said, and elbowed his way through the crowd up to the sign, Scott right behind him.

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

The delegations from Beauxbatons and

Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o’clock

on Sunday the 30th of October- 

 

“Awesome!” Stiles said, “They’re arriving in barely four days!”

 

Students will return their bags and books

to their dormitories and assemble in front

of the castle to greet our guests before

the Welcoming Feast.

 

In the four days that followed, the castle talked of nothing else but the Triwizard Tournament. Nearly everyone was discussing who was going to enter, what the tournaments would involve, and what the students from the other two schools were like. Stiles even heard rumors that the entire Ravenclaw Quidditch team was going to try to put their names in, which was actually ridiculous, because Stiles knew at least one member of their team.

The castle itself underwent a full scrub down. Grimy portraits were being cleaned off, suits of armor were suddenly gleaming, and the caretaker was harassing anyone who forgot to shine their shoes. Other staff members were on edge too- Professors Vanity and Argent were lecturing them all to be on their best behavior every time they were in a room long enough to catch their attention, and Peter Hale had even taken up Hogwarts pride for once, and was wearing his best robes with the Hogwarts emblem. 

On the morning before Halloween, going down to breakfast, Stiles discovered the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Banners representing each individual Hogwarts House hung from the walls, and behind the teachers’ table was an even larger black banner with the Hogwarts emblem on it. Sitting down at their usual table, Allison asked, “Would either of you enter if you could?”

Boyd thought about it for a moment, “Yeah, but Erica wouldn’t like it. She’d say it was too dangerous.”

“That’s not stopping anyone else. Did you know Braeden is going to try to enter? She’s just turned sixteen!” Stiles said, “And do you always let Erica dictate what you do?”

Boyd frowned, and looked like he was about to tell Stiles off when Allison interrupted, saying, “Who do you think the judges are going to be?”

“I know it’s at least the heads of the three schools,” Stiles said, having read about it one very boring summer.

“I overheard some of the teachers talking about ministry workers too- I think even the Minister of Magic is going to be coming.”

“What, really?” Stiles said. They continued the conversation for the rest of breakfast, and carried it on until sometime mid-morning in the common room. 

They were all too excited to really accomplish much that day, and sat restlessly around the castle waiting for six o’clock. Stiles was half laying off the couch in the common room when Allison sat up and gasped. Stiles and Boyd scrambled up, Stiles saying, “What? What time is it? We didn’t miss it did we?”

“No, but nearly! It’s five-fifty!” she said, and all three of them jumped off the couch, and ducked out of the portrait hole, racing down the steps two at a time, pulling on their cloaks as they went. 

The Heads of Houses were ordering students into lines when they arrived, “First years in front, follow me please!” Argent said, the other Heads following suit. Stiles, Allison and Boyd were in the fifth row from the front, peering with all the others trying to get a look around the front of the castle in the cooling dusk air. 

Stiles didn’t know how long they waited, but he was getting cold, and wished he’d brought another coat when the headmaster said, “I see the delegation from Beauxbatons is approaching!” 

“Where?”

“I don’t see it!”

But then everyone saw it. A large, powder-blue, horse-drawn carriage was flying directly towards the school, being pulled by a dozen winged horses. The carriage was as large as a house, and the palomino horses were nearly as large as elephants. The carriage and the horses were hurtling at top speed towards the school, causing several rows of students to step back in alarm. Hooves as large as dinner plates hit the ground with a large thumping noise as they landed, and the carriage came bouncing after them. 

The carriage door, which bore a coat of arms- two crossed, golden wands, each shooting three stars- swung open, and a boy with curly hair dressed in pale blue robes hopped out and unfolded a set of golden steps. He then sprang back respectfully. Then, a moment later, a plump woman with similarly curly hair emerged from the carriage. She was dressed in the same blue color, but with white too, and was smiling nicely. 

Headmaster Davis started to clap, and the rest of the staff and students broke into applause too, all while Stiles and Allison were trying to peer around the Beauxbatons Headmistress to see what her charges looked like, besides the one boy. The headmistress smiled and extended a hand for Davis to kiss.

He took her hand, and said, “Madame Lafayette! It’s wonderful to have you here with us- I must say, welcome to Hogwarts!”

“Davis,” she said, “it is nice to see you well!”

She smiled once again, and waved her hand behind her, “My pupils-” over three dozen boys in girls dressed in light blue silks had stepped from the carriage behind her, most of them shivering in the cold. It wasn’t really surprising, Stiles thought, it was freezing and they didn’t have coats on.

Behind him, Coach Finstock mumbled to one of the other teachers, “They brought an extra number of students this year, for crowd participation, since they could get away with it."

“Has Deucalion arrived yet?” she asked, peering around as though she expected the man to be hiding around the corner. 

Davis shook his head, “He should be arriving at any minute- would you like to wait out here for his arrival, or would you like to go inside and warm up a bit?”

“Warm up, certainly,” Madame Lafayette said, but paused, “but my ‘orses-”

“I’ll attend to them,” Deaton said, stepping forward. 

“Make sure zhat zey-” she started, but Deaton finished with a smile.

“-only drink single-malt whiskey? Yes, Madame Lafayette, I know,” he said, and she smiled, pleased. 

“You have a well-informed staff, Davis,” she said, pleased. And then to her students, “Come!” the Hogwarts students parting on the steps to allow room for them to pass.

“Well that was interesting,” Allison said.

“That brought a lot more students than I thought they would,” Stiles said, “Do you think their carriage has an enlargement charm on it?”

“I don’t know if they’d need it,” Boyd said, “Did you see the size of the sheer size of that thing?”

A few more minutes passed, with numerous people looking up at the sky as though they expected another carriage to fall from it, when someone said, “What’s that sound?” a loud, eerie noise came from the darkness, with a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though a giant vacuum cleaner was sucking up water from- the lake!

Everyone turned to the Black Lake, which was lit by the lights from the castle. The usually-smooth surface was covered with ripples, a great disturbance was occurring in the middle of the lake. Large bubbles appeared on the surface, and waves were washing to shore… and then, the strangest of all, a giant whirlpool appeared in the middle of the lake, and out of it came…

“It’s a mast!” one of the second year said excitedly. She’d been right- a long pole came from the water, with rigging, and after it came a large ship, gleaming skeletal in the moonlight. It almost appeared as though it was a resurrected shipwreck. The lights coming from the portholes seemed like ghostly eyes as the ship bobbed to shore. Moments later, a spash of an anchor being thrown in was heard, and a plank was lowered to shore. 

People started to disembark, and by the time they were all departed, Stiles saw that they had about the same number of people as Beauxbaton did. The people exiting the Durmstrang ship, however, weren’t at all like the flowery, airy Beauxbaton students. They were all built like the biggest, meanest Quidditch players Hogwarts had to offer. When they were closer, Stiles saw that they were all wearing cloaks of matted brown fur, and one of the ones leading the group was a girl under all of it.

The headmaster, though, had a cloak of silver and black fur, and was walking with a cane tipped with silver. Stiles briefly wondered if his wand was built into it. “Davis,” the Durmstrang headmaster said as he approached, and held out his hand. As he fully entered the light, Stiles realized that the Durmstrang headmaster’s eyes were rimmed red, and he was blind. 

“Deucalion,” Davis said, taking his hand. “It’s so nice to see you again, old friend.”

Deucalion chuckled, and said, “I would say the same, but-” still chuckling, he passed the headmaster, stepping into the light of the school. His students followed, and Stiles noticed the girl leading the group wasn’t wearing shoes and had incredibly long, almost claw-like toenails. It seemed odd that she’d wear long furs but no shoes, but maybe they had different customs in Bulgaria or whatever they came from. “Jennifer,” Deucalion said, nodding to Professor Blake, who ignored him, as he entered the school chuckling. 

For a blind man, Deucalion seemed to find his way around the school just fine.

\---

The Hogwarts students filed back up the steps to the Great Hall, where Stiles and his friends sat down at the Gryffindor table. The Beauxbatons students had already chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table, and Stiles noted that several of them- the ones that weren’t still shivering- were flocked around Lydia. The youngest one there seemed to be a fourth year, but Stiles wasn’t sure- they might have started earlier over there. The Durmstrang students, however, had immediately taken a seat at the Slytherin table, and were looking around the room with great interest as they pulled off their furs. 

The caretaker was pulling up four extra chairs on either side of the headmaster, but Stiles wasn’t sure who they were for- there were only two other headmasters in attendance. When all the students had finally selected a seat, the teachers filled in at the head table, Deucalion, Davis, and Lafayette the last to join them. When Lafayette appeared, her pupils leapt to their feat, and refused to be seated until she was. 

“What a weird custom,” Stiles murmured.

Allison elbowed him, “It’s a sign of respect.”

Headmaster Davis, however, was still standing when both others had been seated. “Good evening to my students, guests, and fellow staff,” he said. “The tournament will officially open at the end of the feast- so, dig in!”

The magical dishes appeared as usual, but in a greater variety than Stiles had ever seen. He was determined to try everything. Allison served herself a great helping of bouillabaisse, which apparently was one of her grandfather’s best recipes. The hall seemed much more crowded than usual, with the addition of more than sixty students, with the Beauxbatons blues, and the Durmstrang’s blood red robes. 

While they’d been eating, the two empty seats had been taken up- one, by the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Locklin Davenport, and the other by Ava Prezlocki, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Mr. Davenport was a tall, solemn man, with grey in his black hair; Ava, on the other hand, had dark skin, with bright curly hair and an overall youthful appearance and attitude, reacting to nearly everything the teachers and staff said to her with enthusiasm. 

When the second course arrived, with more unfamiliar desserts, a loud burst of laughter came from a group of French girls over at the Ravenclaw table. As they were sitting just behind Stiles and his friends, they all turned when they heard the sound. Boyd frowned as he looked at the girls, but one in particular- she had long brown hair that sat in waves over her robes. So he called out, "Cora?" 

The girl, who was still laughing, turned around, and her face only brightened. "Boyd!" Cora Hale said. She said something to her friend in French, and then got up, moving quickly around Gryffindor's table until she was on the other side, and sat down next to him. 

He was grinning and said, "Cora! It's so nice to see you!" and hugged her. 

"It's so nice to see you too! I don't know why I didn't think of coming to sit with you, but I suppose I followed my friends to ze- I mean, the- Ravenclaw table," she said, with a slight French accent. They spent the rest of the meal catching up and laughing with each other, while Erica seethed, somewhat jealous, from the Slytherin table. Stiles hadn’t known Cora and Boyd to have been that great of friends. 

As soon as the golden plates had been wiped clean, Headmaster Davis stood up again, and cleared his throat. The room quieted immediately, and everyone paid him rapt attention when he said, “In just a few moments, the Triwizard Tournament will begin. But first, I must introduce the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Mr. Davenport,” he smiled politely, and the room clapped, “and Ms. Prezlocki, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports!” the applause was much louder, and she grinned, waving. Stiles vaguely remembered her name from Quidditch- possibly in association with the Holyhead Harpies. 

“Ms. Prezlocki and Mr. Davenport have worked tirelessly over the last several months to arrange this tournament for all of you, and will be joining myself, Professor Deucalion, and Madame Lafayette on the panel that will judge the champions’ efforts.” At the word ‘champions’ everyone seemed to sit up straighter, and then as Professor Davis called for the casket, everyone couldn’t tear their eyes away. The caretaker struggled over with a large wooden casket inlaid with jewels. Stiles craned his neck to see as a murmur rose from the crowd. “The instructions for each task have been evaluated by both ministry heads, and they made the necessary arrangement for each task,” he said, as the caretaker placed the casket on the table in front of him. “This year,” Headmaster Davis said, his voice booming, “our champions will face adversaries that will test their minds, heart, and souls. The tests that may be easy for one, may be the most difficult for others. 

“Three champions, one from each school, will be selected by an impartial judge,” he said, and then tapped the wooden box with his wand. The lid opened, and he pulled out a rough hewn goblet, unremarkable except in the way it was filled with bright blue fire. Several people around Stiles gasped, and his eyes were fixed on the blue flames. Davis put the goblet down on top of the box, and said, “The champions will be awarded points for how well they complete the task, and the winner will be the one with the most points at the end of the three tasks. Any aspiring champions must write their name clearly on a slip of paper with their school name, and place it in the goblet. You all have twenty-four hours,” the murmuring started up again, and all around him, Stiles heard people whispering, excitement renewed.

“Tomorrow night,” Davis continued, “Halloween, the goblet will return the names of three students it has judged the most worthy. The goblet will be moved to the entrance hall so that all who wish to enter may do so. I will be drawing an Age Line around the goblet myself, so none under the age of seventeen may enter,” several excited people slumped down, having forgotten about the age limit. “Now, I bid you all goodnight!”

Madame Lafayette and Professor Deucalion both stood up as the Hogwarts students were dismissed, many of them staying behind to watch their foreign guests. Deucalion marched over to his students, directly to the barefoot girl- who was dressed in red just like all of her other classmates- and said, “Everyone, back to the ship- come, Kali,” Kali flashed her teeth, and pulled her furs back on. 

“Come on!” Scott said, from right beside Stiles. He’d jumped over when Stiles was watching the Durmstrang students, “We can’t miss anyone putting their names in!”

\---

By the time they had reached the entrance hall, the goblet of fire had moved downstairs through magical means, and a thin gold line ten feet in diameter had been erected around it- the age line. A bunch of other students were waiting around the goblet when Scott and Stiles arrived, just in time to see Ana Murphy, who was on the Quidditch team with Stiles, put her name in. A few minutes later, the whole lot of Durmstrang kids marched in, all of the seventeen year olds in one long line, dropping their names in it, all while the rest of their classmates clapped loudly. The loudest of all was for Kali- the only girl Stiles had managed to spot amongst the Durmstrang students- whether that meant they had left all of the other girls at home, or they didn’t have any other girls, Stiles didn’t know.

As soon as one of those boys threw his name in, he ran to a group of his rowdy friends who yelled his name, “Pietro!” and clapped him on the back before laughing loudly. 

“I wouldn’t want that bloke going against any of ours,” Stiles shuttered, but then Stiles heard the name of another guy he knew.

“Cooper, Cooper!” Stiles and Scott turned to see their Astronomy teacher, Professor Grinspun, trailing after her brother, whom Stiles knew from Quidditch. “This is going to be an incredibly dangerous game- people have died! Okay, if you won’t do it for me, do it for Melinda! Or- or- mum!” 

Cooper rolled his eyes, paper in hand, “Mel thinks it’s cool. Cass, I’m putting my name in.”

Grinspun sighed, sitting down in a chair next to Professor Vanity, and propping her chin up on her hand. She said defeatedly, “He’s gonna die and I’m going to have to tell my mother.” Vanity simply patted her back. 

A string of several others they knew vaguely put their name in, a couple people from Ravenclaw- Phil Ward (Auden’s younger brother, Stiles knew), Phoebe Adams, Berryessa Monk, and two or three more people Stiles didn’t know until Braeden Callahan came running in with a vial. 

“I have it, I have it!” she said confidently.

“What do you have?” Boyd called, from where he was still sitting with Cora.

“Aging potion!” she said, “We’re only a year away- all I need is a couple of drops. Then anyone else can use it!” Boyd looked like he might give it a try, but Cora rolled her eyes as Braeden poured a couple of drops in her mouth. She showed them all a piece of parchment she’d torn off with her name on it: Braeden Callahan - Hogwarts. 

She grinned, determined, and marched up past the Age Line, apparently successful. She looked around in disbelief, smile dropping from her face- as though she didn’t even expect it to have worked, but her grin returned. She looked about ready to cheer when a sizzling sound came from the line, and she was thrown from the circle, landing painfully ten feet away. “Ow,” she said, sitting up. But moments later, there was a loud popping noise, and she sprouted a long white beard. 

The room broke out in laughter, even the two teachers who were still sitting in the corner. Professor Vanity stood up, and still grinning, said, “Well, he did warn you. C’mon, let’s go see Madam Morrell,” taking Braeden by the arm. 

Stiles leaned over to Scott and whispered, “This is why she didn’t get picked as prefect either,” he snickered.

Around nine, everyone except Boyd and Cora- who were still catching up- mostly had wandered back up to their common rooms, as curfew for different ages ran out at different points. 

There would undoubtedly be many more students sneaking down to put their name in the goblet of fire in the middle of the night- either because they were sure they could make it past the age barrier, or because they woke up and decided they wanted to do it after all.

\---

The next morning, Halloween, marked the changing of the decorations in the Great Hall to those of the normal Halloween ones- a cloud of live bats was fluttering around the enchanted ceiling, carved pumpkins leered around every corner, and more words of students entering in the night. “I hear Malia entered,” Alicia said, although she, like everyone else Stiles had heard it from, hadn’t actually seen her enter. Her birthday was late September, she could have put it in though. 

“Better her than a Slytherin,” Boyd grunted, “I saw Maria Lakes put her name in the goblet late last night.” The chatter two tables over was about about the two others who’d ended up in the Hospital wing with beards. 

As it was a regular school day, they didn’t have time to sit around and watch the goblet that morning, but everyone took detours through the entrance hall on the way to class. Scott and Stiles walked by on their way to DADA after breakfast, just in time to see Slytherin 7th years Oliver Knox and Jakob Welsh put their names in. They jumped back and high fived, before dashing off to class. 

An hour later, Stiles walked through the same entrance hall on his way to Herbology. Emily from Hufflepuff was standing in front of the goblet with her books, and Stiles asked, “Hey, who else put their names in?” 

She said, almost dreamily, “That pretty Beauxbatons girl- Giselle Lefebvre-” blushing, she hurried to say, “And Archie Hill, he’s from your house isn’t he?”

Stiles nodded, “You better get up to Charms, they’re starting soon.”

“Oh, right!” she said, pulling out of her dazed look, “see you!”

\---

By five, everyone they knew practically had put their name in the goblet, or at least tried. Stiles still didn’t know whether Malia really put her name in the goblet or not, but assuming she was the best candidate, they’d soon find out. When they all arrived in the Great Hall, Stiles and Scott split up, agreeing to meet later after the champions had been chosen. The goblet sat in front of Davis’ chair, and all through the feast the students were impatiently waiting for him to finish. 

Finally he did, and Allison said, “I hope it’s someone from Gryffindor!” as the golden plates cleared.

Davis rose to his feet, and the room was silenced. Both Professors Lafayette and Deucalion watched him expectantly, the latter tapping his cane rhythmically on the ground, Stiles supposed, as an alternative to tapping his fingernails. Ava Prezlocki was grinning, looking as though this was the most exciting thing, and Locklin Davenport was watching her instead of Davis, with a soft smile on his face.

“The goblet is ready to make it’s decision. When the champion’s names are called, stand up and move up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and over to the next chamber, where they will receive their first instructions.” Davis waved his wand, and all the candles except those in the pumpkins were extinguished, leaving the Hall in a state of semi darkness. The blue flames of the Goblet of Fire burst into red flames, sparks began to shoot from it, and a charred piece of paper fluttered out- causing the room to gasp. Davis caught the piece of paper, and read, “The champion for Durmstrang… is Kali!” 

Kali stood up, grinning with the same wolfish look that Stiles already knew so well. Her grin was enough to make anyone’s blood run cold, even in the festive air. The Durmstrang students clapped the loudest in the room, and were all stomping their feet and hooting. She paraded into the back of the Hall, disappearing into the back room.

Deucalion clapped slowly with a look on his face of a man who had gotten exactly what he wanted, and he’d known he was going to get it. 

The flame, which had resumed it’s blue-white color when it had spit out Kali’s name, but once again turned red, shooting out another piece of parchment. Catching it, Davis read, “The champion for Beauxbatons,” he said, “is Giselle Lefebvre!” She stood up and smiled, her blonde hair flipping behind her as she walked off towards the chamber.

The rest of the eligible Beauxbatons students, for the most part, looked devastated. Several of them broke down crying, and the only person really happy for her, it seemed, was the curly-haired boy who’d pulled down the steps on the carriage. Giselle smiled back at him, and he just grinned wider. The rest of the students, belonging to Hogwarts and Durmstrang, clapped politely. Over at the Hufflepuff table, Emily shot up and was clapping louder than any other Hogwarts student. Caitlin, who was sitting at the Ravenclaw table with the Beauxbatons students, shot Giselle a dirty look.

“The Hogwarts champion is next!” seemed to be the only thing echoing through the room.

The goblet lit red once more, and sparks showered, and the tongue of flame shot high into the air. Davis grabbed the third piece of parchment, and the tension and excitement in the air was so thick they could almost taste it. “The Hogwarts champion… is Daedalus Tippens!” 

The Ravenclaw table exploded around the sixth year boy, who’d just had his birthday a couple days before. Realizing, with an awed look on his face, that they’d called his name, Daedalus jumped up, and yelled, “YES!” before realizing what he’d done, and sitting right back down, looking embarrassed. His friends just laughed and pushed him up, red faced and blushing, towards the side chamber. 

Stiles couldn’t help but laugh, he’d have done the same thing, and clapped his way through it. As Daedalus disappeared through the side chamber, Davis raised his hand for silence. “We now have our three champions, two excellent seventh year women, and a sixth year from our very own school. I hope that all of you will give your champions your utmost support to assure their winning. Now, I must bid you all a good night, as we have important things to discuss with our champions.”

The excitement in the air was tangible. Scott found Stiles almost immediately, the rest of the student body abuzz with talk of the champions and upcoming events. “Would you have entered? If you were old enough?” Scott asked Stiles as they left the Great Hall.

“Nah, I don’t think I’d do well. I’m kinda, not that great with that kind of thing. Remember how well our first Dueling Club meeting went?”

“Really? You’d totally outsmart them all!” Scott said, surprised.

“What about you? Would you have entered?”

Scott nodded, “It would be fun!”

“If by fun you mean possibly being maimed and killed, yeah sure, it’d be fun!” Stiles said, Scott was grinning, though.

“It sucks we won’t have a chance to enter, though,” Scott said, shaking his head, “The next tournament will be three years after we’ve graduated.” 

\---

The next few days were marginally less exciting. A report from a Daily Prophet reporter was in the papers several days after the naming of the champions, detailing a bit more of their lives. The boy who’d clapped for Giselle, the paper said, was her boyfriend Marrion Moreau. And Daedalus Tippens was a muggleborn with three younger sisters.

“Yes that’s fascinating, Stiles, nothing like stalking the champions via newspaper,” Cora said, “And I could have told you about Giselle, she and her boyfriend are all over each other.” She was standing with Boyd above the breakfast table, the third time Boyd had brought her along since they’d reconnected on the night before Halloween. 

“Oh shit!” Stiles said, as Cora and Boyd sat down. Cora was looking at him like he was crazy.

“What? What’s wrong?” Allison asked.

“Nothing, I just- we forgot Mischief Night!” Stiles said, immensely disappointed. 

Cora rolled her eyes, and Allison giggled, “I think they can survive for a year without it.”

\---

Despite being only November, it looked like it could snow any day, which is why Stiles wasn’t at all happy to be called down to Deaton’s hut for Care of Magical creatures one morning, everyone bundled up and wearing their dragon skin gloves. As they gathered around outside, their breaths fogging in the air, Deaton said, “Today we’re going to see a Kanima,” everyone shuffled around, “They’re rarely seen, and even more rarely seen in captivity, but one was recently captured in lower Scotland, and I called in a favor. Now, this isn’t usually seen on fifth-year curriculum, but I think you can handle it…”

"That doesn't... sound any worse than what we've already seen," Stiles said dubiously, as they headed down to the caves near the cliffside beach.

Ten minutes later, the entire class ran out screaming.

\---

For once, Harris didn’t seem to be in a terrible mood. He didn’t even give them homework for a week after his House’s champion was chosen, which significantly reduced their massive pile of homework that Stiles couldn’t help but complain about every chance he got. 

When Stiles walked into Herbology, Cora was sitting around with Peter at Peter’s usual position in the classroom. They look remarkably alike, Stiles thought, as Peter said to Cora, “Don’t you have anything better to do with that French headmaster of yours?”

Cora shook her head, “No. Why else would I be here with you?”

\---

That next weekend was the second Hogsmeade trip of the year, and Danny finally got a new rat (it was enough sharing Todd between two people in different houses, but three?) He brought him to the Three Broomsticks, where everyone else was already sitting and waiting away from the cold. When Danny pulled off his cloak, and the new rat bounded out onto the table, Danny said, “I’m calling him Jackson 2.0.”

“Its the new and improved Jackson!” Stiles joked, as the little rat peered curiously up at them. Jackson 2.0, who was brown with little white spots, ran up to Isaac, who picked him up curiously.

“He already likes you,” Danny said, slipping off his bag, and sitting down, “That’s good, he’ll trust you more when we start taking him to Rat Race Club.”

Still looking down at the rat in his hands, Isaac said, “I didn’t know rats could have white spots.”

Danny just looked at him, and said, “You’re a wizard, we go to a magical school, and you’re concerned my rat has spots?”

\---

The next afternoon, the group was all sitting outside under a beech tree near the shore, mostly working on homework while Cora played with Jackson 2.0. She was wearing her blue silk robes, apparently not caring that they’d get dirty as she sat on the ground. Scott looked up from his Potions notes, and asked, “Why aren’t you cold like all of the other Beauxbatons students?”

She shrugged, Jackson running up her shoulder, “I did go here for a year, I guess I’m used to it.” 

Erica propped herself up on her arms, and asked, “What’s it like there?”

Cora shrugged again, “It’s a lot prettier. You probably noticed by classmates being less than impressed with this place, and there’s a reason for it. The palace is a chateau surrounded by gardens and fountains- all from the surrounding mountains. When we dine, wood nymphs serenade us- and at Christmas, glittering, non-melting ice sculptures adorn the halls,” she sighed, “sometimes I think it’s really ridiculous, but it’s home.”

“Anyone know what the Durmstrang place looks like?” Scott asked, looking around, “I figure it’s gotta be all like the ship, badass and dark and stuff. I hear all of the best dark wizards come from there.”

Stiles shoved him, “Voldemort, dumbass.” Scott grinned and shoved him back. 

“The Durmstrang Institute is in Scandinavia- didn’t you notice their fur cloaks?- near two lakes,” Lydia said, “and their castle isn’t nearly as big as ours. They only have four floors, and their fires are only lit for magical purposes,” she paused, “and they don’t admit muggle borns.”

Danny looked at her and nodded, “She’s right.”

\---

Tuesday morning, Stiles looked over at the Ravenclaw table and discovered why Lydia and Danny knew so much about Durmstrang. The students from both other schools were all interwoven into the tables- and a couple of Durmstrang students were sitting over with Lydia and Danny, although most of them usually sat with the Slytherins. Lydia’s little Beauxbatons fangroup had dissipated, and were now sitting with Heather and Danielle over at Hufflepuff. Cora mostly sat with them at the Gryffindor table at that point, although occasionally she’d rejoin her friends at the Ravenclaw table.

Directly after breakfast, Stiles, Scott, Isaac and Boyd all headed down to their morning Care of Magical Creatures class. When they arrived, Deaton had a wheelbarrow filled with what looked like half a dead cow. He was standing nearer to the forest than they usually stood, and said, “We’re going to be working in the forest today, they like the darkness.”

“What likes the darkness?” Isaac asked, looking worried.

“Literally nothing could be worse than the Kanima,” Stiles said, and his friends shuttered. 

“I really hope it’s not a centaur,” Scott said, “They probably don’t like me very much after last time.”

“Me either,” Stiles said. 

“Oh, what if it’s a troll! What if it’s Hamham?” Scott said, excited.

But Deaton continued, “They were trained by my predecessor-”

“So not trolls, then.”

“- and are likely the only trained pack in Britain. Now, follow me,” Deaton finished, and turned and headed into the forest. Stiles and his friends reluctantly followed. After ten minutes, they were so far in that the tree cover was so thick it looked like twilight, even though it was only nine in the morning. Deaton dumped the cow meat onto the ground, and said, “They’ll be attracted to the meat, just wait.”

A few minutes later, a skeletal, horse-like creature came from the bushes, swishing it’s long black tail. “Thestrals!” Stiles exclaimed suddenly. The thestral stepped over to the meat, and started tearing pieces off with its fangs.

“That’s right, they’re thestrals,” Deaton said, reaching out to pet one. For the most part, everyone else was shuffling around, apparently unable to see them. The only others who could, like Stiles, were Anthea Skye and one Hufflepuff boy. “Now who can see them?”

Stiles and the two others raised their hands. Suddenly one of the Slytherin girls let out a squeal, “It’s tearing the meat off!” she said, and it probably looked strange that meat was disappearing into thin air. Several people stepped closer to see it, Scott included.

“They’re rather useful creatures, and can be used as an alternative to broomsticks or apparition,” Deaton said. “Does anyone know the reason some people can see them and others can’t?”

Stiles raised his hand, “To see them you must have seen death.”

“Very good, ten points to Gryffindor,” Deaton said cheerfully. “Now, as you can see, or well, you can’t…”

\---

The following afternoon, Stiles headed up to the library complete his star charts for Astronomy. Walking into the library, he saw few seats empty. While looking for an empty table, Stiles spotted Danny and a Durmstrang boy holding hands. They were laughing and looking over a text book. Stiles recognized the boy- he was one of the boys who had been messing around with the older student they’d called Pietro, but this boy was one of the ones who hadn’t entered his name in the goblet. 

Stiles finally grabbed a table as two third years were leaving, and slumping down, he said to himself, “Why can’t I meet someone?”

The next day, Stiles scooched up to Danny in Charms, when he knew he’d be alone and focused on his spells, and asked, “Who was that at study hall with you?”

Danny shrugged, trying to look nonchalant as he cast his spell, but he looked like he’d been hit with a cheering charm. Stiles couldn’t help but grin, he’d gotten it. Danny tried to hide it, but said, “Ethan, he’s a fifth year Durmstrang student.”

Danny refused to tell him any more after that, but he was caught daydreaming more than once after that.

\---

Stiles noticed, with the first task approaching fast, the champions were getting more attention than they ever had before. Daedalus had been asked to sign various bookbags, the back of someone’s essay, and even a first year’s forehead! He mostly just looked flustered, and did what they asked, looking more nervous as the task came closer. By lunch the day of the first task, the school was alight with excitement, while Daedalus simply looked pale and worried. Kali looked just like she always did- terrifying and confident. Stiles really had no idea what Giselle felt, she looked just as cool as always.

“Anyone have a clue to what the first task is?” Stiles asked as Allison sat down. Cora and Boyd were sitting across from them, tiredly picking at their food.

Allison said, “Lydia heard from Daedalus and his sources that it’s some sort of maze, or obstacle course. Do you remember what Davis said about the three tasks? The first thing he mentioned was the mind. He’s a Ravenclaw, if anyone has this he does.”

Cora nodded, “Giselle thinks it’s a maze too, but I have no idea where she heard the information, they’ve had the pitch blocked off for days.”

“The Durmstrang boys Lydia and Danny met seem to think so too, their champion is really ferocious looking, but apparently not big on thinking,” Allison said. “Lydia has that boy wrapped around her little finger, he’d tell her anything she wanted to know.”

“Fat lot it does them just to know about it,” Stiles said, “It can’t be just a maze or whatever, that’s not dangerous.”

“Maybe Professor Hale stocked it full of man-eating plants.”

Cora shook her head, “I’d know about it, I’ve been there every day, I’d have seen if any plants were missing. And Uncle Peter would have told me.”

“Oh, look, I think it’s time!” Allison said. They saw Professor Grinspun leading Daedalus out of the Great Hall, along with Kali and Giselle being led by their Headmasters’ aids down to the Champion’s tent.

A few minutes later, after they’d exited, the rest of the students were released to go gather down at the pitch. Stiles and all his friends met and headed down past the champions’ tent, and settled up high on the Quidditch seats. As it was the first competition, the seating was divided into schools. Everyone from Hogwarts, practically, was dressed in blues and copper, and was screaming Daedalus’ name. When Boyd made it up to the stands and sat next to Erica, who was frowning, Stiles asked, “Where’s Cora?” 

“She’s supporting Giselle,” Boyd said, nodding his head towards the Beauxbatons students. Lydia and Danny, who were sitting the row just above them, were without their Durmstrang friends too.

When they finally had a chance to see what was going on, they realized down below wasn’t a maze, it actually looked more like someone’s garden. Well, if the housecat in someone’s garden was a giant sphinx from Egypt, and the large bust in the middle could move and talk.

In the middle of the pitch, there seemed to be a path from the Champions’ tent, leading to a prowling Sphinx- a beast with the body of a lion and the head of a woman with almond-shaped eyes (if they didn’t get past her, they’d probably be eaten. Well, maybe, Headmaster Davis could be unpredictable sometimes). A little past her (because they would certainly have to pass her), was a second obstacle. The garden statue was of a man with two heads. He had a Roman nose, and appeared to be arguing with himself. Beside him were two doors, each with an identical chute behind them, and they were certain to fall through if they picked the wrong door. That seemed to be the only two tasks for this event, as after the doors, there was a marble table with a large seashell on it.

“Oh, I get it!” Allison said, suddenly. 

“Good,” Stiles said, “at least one of you is smart enough,” and she grinned at him.

“What?” Boyd said.

“They have to answer the riddle correctly!” Allison said. “See the Sphinx? She’s famous for asking the riddle about man- what crawls on four legs in the morning, two in the afternoon, that thing!”

“And if they don’t get past her, she probably eats them. She did in the myth, anyway. And the second one,” Stiles said, “That’s Janus, he’s the Roman god of doorways. If they don’t answer his riddle correctly- and pick the wrong door- then they probably fall down the chute.”

“They’re not really going to get eaten by the Sphinx, are they?” Isaac asked, curiously, as he looked down onto the pitch. 

“I’m not sure,” Scott said, but then pointed, “Look, its Ms. Prezlocki!”

Sure enough, Ms. Prezlocki emerged from the tent the same time as a whistle blew. She went around into the judges stand, where she sat beside Mr. Davenport, and Deucalion. Beside Deucalion sat Davis, and on his other side, Lafayette. Moments later, Kali stepped from the tent, and the crowd went wild.

She ran up to the Sphinx, whose voice was amplified for the whole crowd to hear. She stopped prowling, but growled when it looked like Kali was eyeing a way around. The Sphinx said to her, “You can have me but cannot hold me, gain me and quickly lose me. If treated with care I can be great, and if betrayed I will break. What am I?”

Kali frowned, and flexed her claws a bit. She looked like she didn’t have a clue, “I don’t know! What is with this place and your stupid riddles and all your English!”

The Sphinx simply grinned toothily, advancing towards her. Kali snarled, prepared to fight, but then, a horn went off, and Kali looked around, flashing her teeth. But the Sphinx just sat there, looking like it was disappointed it didn’t get to eat her. A moment later, Deaucalion’s aid came rushing out of the tent, and pulled her back inside.

“What, that’s it?” Stiles said, among the groaning. “Come on, I wanted to see some blood!” 

The judges held up their signs, and she got no more than two points per judge. “The only way the next contestant can get any lower than that is if they fall and die on the way to the Sphinx!” Erica scowled.

“One down, two to go!” Ms. Prezlocki said cheerfully. Stiles noticed that Mr. Davenport was looking at her instead of the competition again. “Ms. Lefebvre, please!”

Giselle came out to a cheering crowd, but this time, the contestant smiled and waved as she approached the Sphinx.

“How many eggs can you put in an empty basket?” the Sphinx asked her, smiling widely. 

She thought for a moment, then smiled, “Only one. After zat, it would not be empty.”

The Sphinx stepped back, and the crowd cheered. Giselle looked very confident after that, and moved down the path to Janus, who was watching her curiously. When she approached him, and his two heads, they both turned to look at her. The left head said, “To win, you must pass us.”

The right said, “You must go through one of these doors, but you do not know which leads to safety-”

“Or right back to where you came from,” the left continued.

“You can ask one of us, one question- any question,” the right said.

“But only one of us. One of us tells only lies,” he said.

“The other only truth,” right said. “But nothing is as it seems.” 

They both winked at her, and said together, “Now, what question?”

She looked affronted, and looked between them, unsure of which one was the truth teller. “I-” she said, and they could practically see her guessing. She looked to the right head, and said, “Which way do I go?”

The right head grinned, and said, “My door!” 

But the left head said, “Are you sure?” as she reached for the handle.

She looked at the left door too- it was completely identical, “I- I don’t know,” she said, and glanced up. Deciding to go ahead with it, she pushed through the right door, and stepped onto the chute. For a moment, she’d thought she’d made it, but suddenly Giselle disappeared down a chute, and the crowd collectively gasped. 

“I’d thought she’d made it!” Allison said, disappointed, but Stiles shook his head. 

“That wasn’t the correct question,” he said.

From behind him, Lydia said, “How were you not in Ravenclaw?”

Stiles leaned back, putting his arm on the back of the chair and scoffed, grinning slyly, “Thats what they all say.”

The judges quickly judged Giselle- awarding her much higher points than Kali, for actually getting the first question right, as well as doing it quickly. She didn’t receive many points for the second obstacle, though. 

“Two down, one to go!” Ms. Prezlocki said, smiling broadly. “Hogwarts’ own Mr. Tippens!” the crowd went wild as Daedalus stepped out, Danny and Lydia yelling loudly behind them, stomping their feet to add to the noise.

Daedalus stepped up to the Sphinx who had resumed her prowling. He looked nervous, as though he didn’t think he was going to do as well as the girls before him. The Sphinx stopped like she had twice before, and said, “While exploring the wild highlands of Ireland, you are captured by goblins. The goblins tell you that you are allowed one final statement on which would hinge how you would die. If the statement you make is false, you would be boiled in water. If the statement were true, you would be fried in oil. What is the one statement you could make to save yourself?”

There was a mumbling coming from the stands. The previous two riddles had been short, but Lydia seemed to think that if anyone could answer it, it would be him. 

Daedalus stood there thinking for a few minutes, repeating it to himself, while the Sphinx prowled, and grew ever impatient. However, he grinned, and said, “You will boil me in water.” If they boiled him in water, that would make his statement true, which meant he should have been fried in oil. However, they could only fry him in oil if he made a true statement, but if they did, it would make his final statement false. The goblins would have no way out of their situation, so they would be forced to set him free. 

The Sphinx stepped aside, and Daedalus grinned as he moved on to the statue of Janus. When he stepped up to it, the statue looked him over, and repeated the instructions. They ended with the statue’s two heads winking, and saying together, “Now, what question?” Daedalus looked both doors over, and stood for a few minutes, before turning to the right head.

“What would the other one say?” Daedalus asked the right head, after a few moments. 

Up at the bleachers, Stiles said, “Now, that was the right question.”

The heads both smiled this time, and the right head said, “He’d tell you to pick my door.”

Daedalus smiled, and stepped over to the left door, and pulled at the handle, crossing the threshold. They all held their breath, but when he stepped onto the chute, it didn’t fall beneath him, and the crowd cheered. He grinned and cheered himself.

“He better go grab the shell thing,” Danny said, “he’s running out of time.”

Seeming to realize what Danny had said, Daedalus turned to the table, and grabbed the shell. This time, the cheering was off the charts, and the judges had to wait until it had all died down to give him his score- the highest yet! He had been the only one to really finish.

The judges moved down from their raised golden seats, and all the students were released to the castle grounds.

\---

November turned into December with the howl of winds and the promise of snow any day. Every day made Stiles glad they lived in the castle, where there were things like fires, and not on the lake like the Durmstrang students, or the rickety carriage the Beauxbatons students resided in (although Cora insisted it wasn’t too bad.) One freezing morning, as it rained and hailed, Stiles and Scott were heading up from potions, spotting a couple of their friends as they rounded a corner.

Lydia and Danny were talking with Ethan, that boy Danny liked. But he wasn’t holding Danny’s hand, he was holding Lydia’s. Stiles frowned, but before he could open his mouth, Scott pulled him along with a, “Come on, we have three floors to climb!”

\---

The Hogsmeade trip was that following weekend. Saturday morning they were sitting at breakfast, Stiles reading the Daily Prophet (they had another feature on the champions, this time they were interviewing people- Cora had reportedly told them to shove off.) Like they’d begun doing over the past few weeks, the students from all schools were interwoven into the Hogwarts tables. However, Cora was sitting with her Beauxbatons friends at breakfast, despite the fact she was going to attend Hogsmeade with them later that day.

Erica slid into the Gryffindor table across from Boyd, and leaned over the table, her crossed arms supporting her. The two had always gone to Hogsmeade together- always- and it didn’t seem like it would be any different. Her loose hair fell over her shoulders, as she said, “So I was thinking we could go by the Three Broomsticks for lunch- I’ve been really craving a Butterbeer- and then I know you’ve been complaining about your wand malfunctioning recently, so we can stop by there on the way to Gladrags’, they’re having a sale,” she said. 

Boyd said apologetically, "I can't- I promise Cora I'd show her around, since she left before she had a chance to go.”

"Fine," Erica said, standing up suddenly, and storming off to her own table. She dropped down next to a Durmstrang boy who scooted closer, all while she stabbed at her empty plate. 

Boyd frowned, staring off at her, “What? What just happened?”

“Dude, she’s jealous,” Stiles shook his head, as Cora, approaching from the Ravenclaw table, sat down next to Boyd.

“Who’s jealous?” Cora said, looking around.

“Erica,” Stiles and Allison said in unison. 

“Oh,” she said. 

Boyd just sighed, “Maybe I should go talk to her.”

Allison shook her head, “She just needs time to cool off. You don’t want her mad at you- remember last year when I accidentally jinxed her in Transfig?” 

“Okay,” Boyd said with a sigh, picking up a kipper. 

An hour later had them all dressed in warm clothing- House hats, cloaks, and scarves, heading down to the usual point they left Hogwarts. Cora was wearing a large blue cloak, the same color as her usual school uniform, as well as a white scarf and muffler. The caretaker, as usual, was running around making sure everyone had their permission slips signed.

“Wait a minute!” the caretaker called, and they stopped, Stiles groaning. “Cora Hale doesn’t have her slip signed.”

She turned around and sighed, “My Uncle Peter is the Herbology teacher here- if you have any problems, go see him.”

He shook his head, and said, “No, you need a signed permission slip, your name is right here!” pointing frantically at the sheet of parchment. 

“But I don’t even go here anymore!” she said, frustrated, but he shook his head and insisted. She turned to her friends, frowning, “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Boyd nodded, and Stiles and Allison dropped down near one of the walls. Scott was much too full of energy to sit down, and was moving around to keep warm- stomping on the pavement and doing squats. Lydia and Danny just leaned against the wall, and Erica hadn’t shown up. Blowing into his hands as he rubbed them together, Scott said, “I hope we’re not too late to get Isaac.”

Crossing the lawns, Cora begrudgingly walked down to the greenhouse where Peter spent most of his time. Upon marching into the building, she grabbed his arm before he had a chance to protest. “They need you to sign a thing so I can go to Hogsmeade!” she said impatiently, through her muffler. “Come on, my friends are waiting!”

He sighed, “Can’t I just tell them later?”

“No, thats what I said!” she said, tugging him towards the door, him reluctantly following. She dragged him all the way back up to the caretaker, and her bored, waiting friends. 

He signed the permission form in front of the caretaker, and said, “Happy?”

She smiled sweetly, “Yes thank you,” and left. 

\---

They assumed Erica would show up by lunch time, and even went by the Three Broomsticks to find her, but the bartender said he hadn’t seen her all day. Boyd instead bought her a bottle of Butterbeer, which he’d give to her later, and said, “Now can I go talk to her?”  but Cora shook her head.

“No, I’ll do it,” she said, “Can I take her the Butterbeer?” 

Boyd nodded, and said, “Do you need the password?”

She rolled her eyes, and said, “No, Peter gave it to me,” and left, waving to the rest of the group.

She hurried back to the castle, and found her way to the Slytherin Dungeons, locating the wall which lead to the common room. Spitting out the password, she slipped into the common room, which was (thankfully) empty (or else she might have been confronted and forced into a duel, which she didn’t want to deal with at the moment.) Finally spotting Erica’s room down one of the drafty corridors, Cora knocked on the door.

“Go away Boyd,” she heard Erica yell from inside.

“It’s not Boyd,” Cora said, ear pressed to the door.

“Go away whoever you are, then!” Erica said, and Cora was pretty sure she heard a sniffle. 

“It’s Cora,” she said, “I’m coming in.”

Erica didn’t make any moves to stop her, so Cora pushed the door open, to find Erica curled up in a chair in the corner of her room. She was petting her cat, and her eyes were red. 

Cora wasn’t going to mention she’d been crying, and Erica was too proud to let on, so Cora said, “Boyd was looking for you earlier. He bought you this,” she held out the bottle of Butterbeer. Erica wiped one eye, and took it, sticking it in the corner of the chair. “You’re Boyd’s best friend, not me,” Cora said.

“Fat lot of good that does me in here,” Erica said.

“Yeah well if you weren’t such an ass, you’d see Boyd is like a brother to me, and I actually have a brother, so I know what that’s like,” Cora told her. “And even if he weren’t, I’d never encroach on your territory. Boyd is head-over-heels for you anyway, he’s been enthralled since first year.”

“Really?” Erica said, sitting up. Her cat was flicking its tail, and Cora was pretty sure it was glaring at her. 

“Of course he was, don’t you remember anything about first year? I was the one who had to listen to him talk about you all the time when you weren’t there.”

\---

A week after the first tournament, it did snow, and despite their shared annoyance at the sheer amount of homework they’d been given in preparation of OWLs, Stiles somehow managed to convince Lydia to go tobogganing with him in the two feet at arrived nearly overnight. On the way back- both of them sopping wet and freezing- Stiles spotted two boys- Ethan and another boy wrapped in furs that he couldn’t get a close look at- bewitching snowballs to follow students around hitting them on the back of their heads until their headmaster came up behind them, smacking them both in one swoop. Rubbing the back of their heads, they were carted back to the ship by their ears.

\---

Two weeks before Christmas, before Professor Argent dismissed them, he cleared his throat and said, “I have an announcement pertaining to the Triwizard Tournament,” the room silenced immediately, everyone sitting up straighter in their seats. He smiled, and said, “The Yule Ball is approaching. It’s a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament, giving you an opportunity to socialize with our foreign guests. The ball is open to fourth years and above, but you may invite someone younger if you wish,” he said, and there was a murmur of whispers around the room.

“Uh oh. You better go make up with Allison. Or Isaac,” Stiles said as the chatter rose, “Before they get mad enough to go without you.” Allison had broken up with Scott (again) and claimed Isaac in the break up. 

“What about you?” Scott asked.

“I’ll uh- ask Lydia!” but Scott scoffed. “Hey, it could happen!”

“Dress robes will be worn,” Argent continued loudly, silencing the room once again. (“Oh, that’s what those were for,” Stiles said. “We should probably get some.”) “and the ball will begin at eight o’clock Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall.” He made eye contact with all of them, “This will be a chance to let loose, but don’t embarrass your school and House. The time of dance lessons will be posted on your house notice boards.”

“Dance lessons?” Scott paled. 

“Dismissed!” Argent said.

\---

Later that afternoon, Scott and Stiles trudged up to the Owlery to find Striggy for Stiles, and a school owl for Scott. They could have both used Striggy as always, but Stiles figured it would be faster if he didn’t have to stop at both houses to rest and wait for replies. 

“Hey buddy,” Stiles said, as Striggy hooted at him and hopped off his pedestal and onto Stiles’ arm. Scott was still trying to wrestle down one of the school owls, which didn’t seem to want to touch him with a ten foot pole. Scott was frowning and crossing his arms, glaring up at them as Stiles stifled a laugh, and fed Striggy his treat. “I need you to take this to dad for me, kay?” 

Stiles attached the note to Striggy’s extended leg, as Scott marched over with a displeased-looking owl in a vice grip. Scott looked triumphant, as he attached his own letter meant for his mother.

They, apparently, had been the only two of their friends not to get dress robes like the requirements said they needed. Erica called them dumbasses after class, and the two of them scurried upstairs to see if their parents would send them some. Stiles outgrew his years before, Scott never had any wizard-class robes, since he didn’t actually need any before. 

The two of them parted ways when they got to the bottom floor of the West Tower, and Stiles sighed as he headed back up to the seventh floor to the Gryffindor common room. When he stepped inside, he saw it was unusually full, and Professor Argent was collecting names to stay over Christmas. There was even a line. But before he got a chance to join it, Allison grabbed his elbow and steered him away, saying, “I put your name on the list when I put mine and Boyd’s down.”

Two day later at breakfast, when the owls came swooping in, they got replies along the lines of “You little shits shoulda listened when we told you to get supplies,” (Stiles’ dad) and “HA. Good luck kids,” (Scott’s mom, but it looked like Stiles’s dad had gotten to her first.) (Of course Stiles and Scott had taken a few liberties with the letters’ interpretation, but that was the gist of it.)

“Where are we supposed to even get dress robes?” Stiles groaned when Scott had shown up with his own reply and lack of dress robes, Cora and Malia sitting across from them looking at them like they were stupid.

With a spoon sticking out of her mouth, Malia, apparently a friend of Cora’s, said simply, “Hogsmeade. Everyone else who didn’t get robes is going during the special holiday trip.” 

“Oh. Right.”

\---

A few days later, Stiles was looking for Coach Finstock. He’d been meaning to ask him what the Triwizard Tournament meant for the Inter-House cup for the next year, and if he could borrow the Quidditch gear sometime to practice, but he’d simply never gotten around to it. However, Transfig had been cancelled when Professor Vanity was sneezing too hard to actually perform any spells, and he had time to kill before History with the Slytherins. 

When he reached Coach’s office, he opened the door without knocking, saying, “Coach- oh god, Lydia!” throwing his hands over his eyes. Perched on the desk with her shirt on the floor, pink bra very visible- and her legs wrapped around Ethan, who wasn’t wearing a shirt either- Lydia Martin stared at Stiles. Who was gaping at her. 

Lydia shrugged and said, “What?”

“Your shirt!” he protested. 

She sighed, and held out her hand, Ethan reaching down to pick it up for her. Slipping it on her shoulders, she said, “You can look now.” Stiles scowled. She only had one button buttoned, and her legs were still wrapped around the Durmstrang student’s very fit waist. 

Wait- he thought, looking up at the man, Stiles sputtered, “But what about Danny?”

The two students looked at him very perplexed for a few seconds, until realization dawned on their faces, and they burst out laughing, Lydia’s tinkle following Aiden’s low chuckle. The Durmstrang boy pointed to his chest, and said in a very thick accent, “I am Aiden. That is my twin brother. Ethan.”

“He’s my date to the Yule Ball,” Lydia said airily, but she was looking out of the corner of her eye at him, like she thought he interrupted them on purpose. He did not. His head was spinning. 

“Oh. That makes sense.” And then he said, stumbling to point backwards, “I’m gonna. Uh. Go look for coach.”

Rushing out the door, he closed it behind him as Lydia yelled, “He’s in study hall!”

\----

When Stiles could finally look Lydia in the eye again, it was two days before the end of the term. Professor Vanity still had a nasty bout of Black Cat Flu and let them play games in class, while Harris and Blake were determine to work them till the last minute. Lydia, Stiles, Scott and Allison were all in the library working on homework when Lydia threw her book down in disgust.

"I swear I've seen this before!" Lydia said, frustrated, dropping the heavy books on the table in the library. The piece of parchment she had brought with her nearly flew away but she grabbed it and dropped a book on it with particular malice.

Allison looked up, “Seen what?”

“Those words, the poem clue! Ugh,” she said, plopping down. “I’m helping Daedalus- Ravenclaw pride and everything, but I can’t think of it!”

The clue for the next task had been a seashell which had a poem apparently carved into it, but it changed once a week. According to Lydia’s paper, the poem this week went as follows:

For swelling waves our panting breasts,

Where never storms arise,

Exchange, and be a while our guests:

For stars gaze on our eyes.

The compass Love shall hourly sing,

And as he goes about the ring,

We will not miss

To tell each point he nameth with a kiss. 

According to Aiden and Ethan, and Cora, neither of the other champions were having too much luck figuring it out either, especially since they’d barely only just received their clues themselves. 

Allison looked at the books Lydia had put on the table, A Thousand and One Magical Poems, Famous Wizard Poets, and Spell-binding Poems. “What if you’re looking at this wrong?” she said suddenly, “What if they aren’t poems from the wizarding world?” she said excitedly, “Didn’t your mom have a bunch of books of muggle poetry in your living room?”

Lydia looked at her, and said, “You’re brilliant,” and hugged her, “Thank you, thank you!” and raced off to her room, to compose a letter to her mother, the books abandoned on the table. 

When she looked up, Scott and Stiles were staring at her, open mouthed. “What?”

“I have the smartest girlfriend in the school,” Scott said, and Allison grinned down at her books, continuing her homework. (Really guys? You broke up like, last week.)

\---

Continuing to try and impress Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, Christmas decorations were the most spectacular they’d ever seen. Professor Vanity- who had recovered just in time for the holiday- Kettlewig, and numerous other teachers put on the most splendid decorations that made even Stiles skid to a stop. There were everlasting icicles attached to the bannisters, there were twelve fully-decorated Christmas trees in the Great Hall, and the suits of armor had been bewitched to sing Christmas carols. And yet, neither Stiles nor Scott had dates yet.

Allison was still practically ignoring Scott when he tried to talk to her about anything other than homework, so Scott asked Isaac to the ball instead. He looked sheepish as he said, “Sorry! Allison already asked me!” and then, reciting what Allison had told him, “She told me to tell you that you got me last time.”

When he told Stiles at dinner, Stiles suggested, “You could ask Kira, I heard she was hoping you’d ask her.”

Scott dropped his face on the table, and let out a low groan, “Owww.” Then he whined, “But I don’t want to go with Kiraaaaa. I wanna go with Allison and Isaac.”

“I don’t know what to tell you then, buddy,” he said, patting him on the back.

From where Scott’s face was planted on the table came a muffled, “Heather asked if you were going with anyone. I told her you weren’t.”

“What? Reallty?” but seeing the look on Scott’s face, he said, “I mean, of course I don’t wanna go with her! I totally wanna go stag with you, best buddy!”

Scott’s face lit up, lifting it up from the table, “Really?”

“Yeah, of course! You’re way more fun than some girl,” Stiles patted him on the back. “Plus I don’t have to learn how to dance for you.” He then called to Boyd across the table, “Hey, dude, you going with anyone to the ball?” 

Boyd got this look on his face, almost rivaling the look Scott got every time he looked at Allison, and said, “Yeah. Erica asked me a week ago.”

\---

The next afternoon was dance lessons for the Yule Ball. Stiles wasn’t sure when any of the other Houses had their lessons, but he knew Scott had already had his and what he lacked in skill he made up for in enthusiasm. Professor Argent had all summoned them to an empty classroom lined with chairs, girls on one side, boys on the other, and started lecturing them on the importance of knowing how to dance- for not embarrassing the school, and for various other reasons Stiles had stopped paying attention to. Instead he and Allison were making faces at each other from across the room. 

“Allison?” Professor Argent said, holding out his hand. “Care to demonstrate with me?” She stood with grace, but made another face at Stiles, unseen by her father, and took his hand. “Now, gentlemen- you must put your hand on her waist and her other hand, while she puts her hand on your shoulder.” They demonstrated, and Professor Kapur, who came to help, turned on the gramophone. Bland dance music came out as they began to dance. 

“Come now,” Professor Kapur said, taking the arm of one of the seventh year boys, “everyone join in.” For a moment, everyone looked reluctant but then a few people just shrugged and grabbed the nearest person to them, and joined the professors and Allison. 

Boyd was still sitting in the seat next to Stiles, with his arms crossed, looking out at them all with an amused look on his face. “Aren’t you gonna practice?” Stiles asked, and Boyd just shook his head and leaned back. Stiles shrugged and was pulled in by Braeden.

\---

The following day was the special trip to Hogsmeade where they could do any last-minute Christmas shopping, where Scott and Stiles grudgingly followed the other dress robe-less students down to Gladrags Wizardwear where a hundred other upperclassmen were being fitted for robes. They waited around for most of the afternoon until finally they were both able to get in to get fitted. Both of them somehow managed to get ill-fitting suits, but they looked fine, and were happy to get out of there. As they exited the shop they saw Erica disappear into the Post Office.

Meanwhile, at the castle, Isaac and Allison were walking the halls, just finished from lunch. Isaac admitted as they climbed up the grand stair, “I don’t have a suit, and I don’t think I can afford one, my account only has a couple sickles in it Scott’s mom gave me for books.” He wouldn’t look at her. 

Allison bit her lip, thoughtful, and said, “I think my dad has one you can borrow- I don’t think it fits him anymore. Don’t worry about it,” she smiled, taking his hand, “Come on, lets go see.”

\---

Christmas Eve the friends were sitting around the Gryffindor fire, and Cora had even joined them, taking a break from all her friends in the Beauxbatons carriage. Scott was attempting to teach Isaac Wizard Chess again, and Danny and Stiles were trading chocolate frog cards.

“This is boring,” Cora moaned, “even worse than the girls in the coach. Don’t you guys have any exploding snaps or anything?” 

“Under my bed,” Stiles said without looking up.

“Hey, you told me you got rid of those!” Allison said. 

“Whatcha gonna do about it?” he said, “You didn’t get Prefect either!” 

She scowled for a moment, and then said, eyes lighting up, “Hey, do you guys wanna go ice skating on the Black Lake?”

Scott looked up, frowning, “Are you sure? It doesn’t look very solid…”

Erica grabbed Boyd’s hand excitedly, “It’s fine, Boyd works at an ice rink over the summer!” She pulled him up, and Cora joined them, shrugging.

“Anything is better than sitting here like this,” Cora declared.

“I’m up for it,” Stiles said, “Lydia?”

“Very well,” she said, standing up. 

When they finally exited the castle, passing the large Beauxbatons carriage, they were all carrying ice skates over their shoulders they’d borrowed from a supply closet. When they reached the ice, Lydia slid on with grace, and skated out quickly, doing tricks and spins as Stiles watched and gaped, till she swung back around and grabbed his hand. Boyd and Erica had stepped on, too, and were circling the ice-coated Durmstrang ship. Scott, on the other hand, had barely taken two steps without falling on his face. Allison was there giggling, and attempting to help him. 

\---

Stiles awoke on Christmas day to a shout, Clive having yelled when his cat landed on his stomach. Everyone else in the room sat up and looked around, bleary-eyed, when Stiles noticed the mound on the foot of their beds, “Presents!” he said, and dove for them. Everyone else in the room seemed to notice their piles too, now wide awake. Stiles and Boyd both received a year’s subscription to Seeker Weekly (one of Erica’s favorite magazines), Stiles got his usual box of chocolate frogs from Danny; a new sneakoscope from Lydia; Scott, a fanged frizbee; Cora, to his surprise, an Exploding Snap Pack; and Boyd tossed him a bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans when they’d both finished opening the rest of their presents. 

A few minutes later, after they’d gotten dressed, Allison marched in and told them what all she’d gotten for Christmas- a subscription to Witch Weekly from Erica, instead of to Seeker Weekly- and gave them both fancy new Peacock quills. The three of them headed down to breakfast where they met up with all their other friends, and saw that the other schools had apparently also received presents. Cora sat with them, and was sporting a new muffler, about which she said, “From my brother,” and then said nothing else. She was also carrying a red and green wrapped package for her uncle.

Stiles said, “You’re actually getting him something?” 

She shrugged, “He is my uncle, and I really haven’t had the opportunity in a while. They’re new dragon-hide gloves from France.”

She reappeared after lunch with a new dragon-skin coat of her own, looking pleased, and played with Stiles’ new Fanged Frisbee in the snow with everyone until it was late afternoon. The girls, pink cheeked and out of breath, excused themselves to go get ready, while the boys continued playing for another hour before scattering. 

Scott and Stiles went down to the Hufflepuff dormitory to get changed, while Isaac went up to Gryffindor with Boyd. The two of them changed quickly into their ill fitting robes, and stood to inspect themselves in the mirror.

“We don’t look bad, do we?” Scott asked, “Maybe I should have asked Kira instead.”

“You look fine. You’re like the hot girl, Scott, everybody is gonna want you,” Stiles said with a nod, fixing his tie in the mirror.

“I’m the hot girl,” he said with a grin, Tommy Button rolled his eyes from the other side of the dormitory. 

The two of them slipped past all the embracing couples in the Hufflepuff dormitory, past the gawking third years and below, and climbed up the steps to the Entrance Hall to wait for the rest of their friends. Danny and Ethan were the next to appear, walking arm and arm from the general area of the Ravenclaw tower. Danny looked excellent in black, while Ethan was in a dark red cloak lined with furs and a cape, and was grinning. Cora showed up a few minutes later, alone, but in robes of a silver-grey satin like much of her school that they’d seen. The Entrance hall was crowded with students meeting others from a different house or school, and waiting for the Great Hall to open it’s doors. Those that were milling around were in various colors- much blue and red from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang respectively, and other colors from Hogwarts. Both schools had entered earlier before Scott and Stiles arrived, with their headmasters. 

Just before eight, Boyd- in dark, Slytherin green robes- came up the stairs from the dungeons with Erica on his arm. He was grinning, as was she, and they all just had to stare. Erica had gotten considerably more attractive in the past few years, from the ratty eleven year old they’d met on the train, but she had really outdone herself. Her hair was perfectly curled, her lips were red, and her dress- a turquoise and black combo- really complimented Boyd’s robes. Lydia and Aiden came up from the direction of the Durmstrang ship, Aiden looking identical to his brother, and Lydia in a silvery-white strapless gown. She was wearing a feather in her hair.

“Wow,” Stiles said, when he spotted her, and Aiden shot him a glare, but Lydia looked pleased.

“When is this thing going to start?” Cora asked.

“And where’s Allison?” Lydia said, looking around. “Has she been down here yet?”

Scott shook his head. “I haven’t seen Isaac either yet.”

“I left him up in the dorms like half an hour ago-” Boyd said, but was cut off when Professor Argent called out.

“Champions this way!” he called, and Giselle and the boy from her school followed, as well as Kali, who was wearing the same thing as her fellow male students, and Daedalus, in blue, with Heather on his arm. “Kali, where is your date?” Chris sighed, “I told you you needed a date.”

“I told you, no,” she snarled, “I am not going to have a date. I am barely coming to this thing!” she said, and Deucalion held up his hands.

“It is her right,” he said and Argent sighed.

“Fine. Giselle, dear, and Daedalus, you two will lead the dance. Kali you can sit that out, but you lead the procession.

The five of them lined up just inside the huge doors, and the doors were flung open and they were all allowed to enter. Allison and Isaac still hadn’t shown, so the group exchanged looks and marched in with the stream of students. Heather waved to Stiles and Scott, with a look on her face that nearly said, ‘you didn’t ask me, so I took someone else.’ Lydia was latched onto Aiden’s arm, and was the envy of several others. Some of the boys looked like they wanted to kill Aiden, who was grinning.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Scott whispered as they entered, and looked around. The Great Hall had been covered in a magical white frost, with mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.

“They’re fine, Scott,” Stiles said, and pointed to the mistletoe, “Wanna try making out?”

Scott laughed and shoved him when Stiles snickered, and they joined the others at one of the tables. Stiles sat beside Lydia, Scott on his other side, Boyd next to him. The House tables had been replaced with many smaller, candle-lit tables that seated twelve, just enough for the entire group. At the head of the room was a large table where the judges were sitting- Headmasters Davis, Lafayette, and Deucalion- as well as the Head of Magical Game, Ava Prezlocki, and Department of International Magical Cooperation, Locklin Davenport. 

Just outside the Great Hall, where the last few students were lingering, Isaac stood nervously next to Allison. He was fretting about his suit, pulling at it, “I look like I just stepped out of the- the last period of my dad’s Catholic prep school, and there is no way I'm going to remember all of the dance moves- what if I trip over my own feet? I am sweating all the way through my jacket, I didn't even know I could sweat this much.” 

Allison smiled at him, taking his hand, “You look fine,” and stood up on the tips of her toes to kiss him. “Lets go, we’re already late.” She was wearing dress robes that were the same color as Lydia’s, but it was pulled in bunches all the way to the floor. They slipped inside and sat down across from Scott and Stiles just in time. 

Back in the Great Hall, Deucalion and Davenport were both in solemn blacks, although Deucalion's robes were lined with silvery furs. Lafayette and Davis were in different shades of blue. Ava, however, was in bright yellows with her hair pulled back, and she stood to clap when the precession of Champions was marched in. She kept glancing back down at Davenport, who was clapping slowly. Deucalion was grinning menacingly as his Kali lead the group, pulling out her chair for her next to him. Daedalus and Heather sat down next to Prezlocki, and Giselle and her date next to them.

“That’s her boyfriend, Marrion Moreau,” Cora said over the clapping. As soon as they were seated, Stiles looked down at his glittering golden plate. There was no food, but there were small menus, and Cora took a glance at it before ordering, the food appearing moments later.

Stiles eyes lit up, and he nudged Scott, who was watching Isaac and Allison longingly. “Dude, this is cool, look at this! Pork chops!” he ordered, and seconds later his food was on his plate. Scott’s eyes went wide, and soon the room was filled with delighted laughs and chatting. 

Sitting at one of the far staff tables were several teachers, Professor Vanity in a lanky green gown, with her hair pulled up, and Grinspun, in a flowy blue thing, with her hair down, were leaning on each other. They were dates, as usual. Kapur was wearing red, in a darker shade than what Argent was wearing, but the two of them looked like they were having a good time chatting over their soups. Coach Finstock was sitting at their table too, along with Deaton and his sister, Madam Morrell. 

When all the food had been consumed, Headmaster Davis stood up and asked the students to do the same, and with a flick of his wand, the tables and chairs were whisked away to the corners to make a dance floor. With another wave, a platform was conjured with a wide variety of musical instruments. The room fell into a hush.

“I’d heard they’d gotten them-” one student whispered, “but I didn’t think it was true!” 

“They came out of retirement just for this!”

“Who?” another behind him whispered.

“Yeah, who?” Stiles mumbled.

“The Weird Sisters!” several people screamed all at once, as the group- all hairy and dressed in artfully torn clothing climbed up onto the stage. The lanterns all dimmed, and the two couples at the judges table stood up to dance. For a few moments the two couples danced to the mournful tune, but other couples started joining them. Lydia pulled Aiden out, and Ethan and Danny followed. After a bit of coaxing, Allison and Isaac joined them, and soon enough Scott, Stiles, and Cora were the only ones at the table. 

“What are you waiting for?” Cora said to them, “Come on, lets go dance!”

“All three of us?” Scott said.

“Yes, or you two, or whatever, I just want to dance!” she said, and left, the two of them following. After a few songs of truly awful dancing on Stiles part, Scott got pulled into a dance with Danny, and Stiles with Malia from Quidditch. 

Boyd and Erica swooped by, him lifting her in the air to spin around, her hair and skirt flying. Their cheeks were flushed, and they looked happy. Malia eventually abandoned Stiles, and he spotted Lydia at the table, alone, with a drink. He joined her and said, “Lydia, dance with me.”

She looked him over, and said, “Fine,” taking his hand, “But don’t step on my feet.”

“I would never,” he said.

An hour later, Scott and Stiles sat down, exhausted and out of breath from dancing wildly and exuberantly on the dancefloor. They were gulping down water from their goblets when Erica and Boyd, both flushed, sat down next to them.

“Wow,” Scott said, gulping down the last of the goblet, “I had no idea you could do that.” 

Erica grinned, “Remember my Aunt Mildred? She used to be a professional ballroom dancer.” They’d barely gotten a sip down when they were pulled back out on the dancefloor. Deaton and his sister waltzed by the two of them, before trading partners- Deaton with Kettlewig, Morrell with Finstock. Harris had been lurking at the back of the room “chaperoning” until Blake pulled him into a dance.

And then, right in the middle of the dance floor, Erica kissed Boyd smack on the lips. When she pulled away, she was smiling, and he had a happy, dazed look on his face. Stiles couldn't help but grin, and beside him, Cora said, "Finally!"

Stiles jerked, “When did you get here?” She shrugged. Stiles glanced around the room again, spotting more teachers dancing, and lurking in corners- particularly Peter, who was sulking in a corner. Stiles followed his line of sight, which was on Lydia, and stood up.

He ran into the middle of the dancefloor, grabbed her arm, and yelled, “I’m cutting in!” and pulled her far, far away from Peter. Prezlocki and Davenport waltzed past them, followed by Allison and Scott, who had apparently made up. Scott was even worse than Stiles, and was tripping all over his feet.

At the end of the night, Stiles was one of the last to leave, dancing his wild dance moves well into the night- he was pretty sure he had over the limit of butterbeers, and headed out with a sugar high. The group wandered the garden for an hour until they split and headed towards their individual dormitories. 

\---

The following morning everyone got up late, and spent the rest of the day lazily doing the huge pile of homework they’d accumulated, and trading Chocolate Frog cards. Lydia informed them that Daedalus had figured out the latest clue, thanks to her help- sirens. The poem was called The Sirens’ Song by a muggle poet, William Browne, and they figured out they had to defeat it somehow. He was going to bring wax with him to plug his ears, so he couldn’t hear it, but they weren’t entirely sure what else they were going to do about it. 

\---

The term started with another pile of homework. Now that the Yule Ball and the excitement of Christmas was over, Stiles was absolutely miserable with studying. He and Scott had fallen asleep on the Gryffindor common room floor at least twice, waking with parchment stuck to their faces and ink stains on their lips, and Stiles nearly forgot to send his dad a letter to ask for more adderall when his was running out, so he had to go two days without it.

Two days into the second week of January, Stiles, who hadn’t lifted his head from his Potions textbook in over an hour, was wondering the fourth floor, looking for the study area. He finally located the door (which was rather difficult to do when you wouldn’t stop reading) and pulled it open. Unfortunately, he got an eyeful. 

“Oh my god!” Stiles yelled, startled, slamming his book shut. “Not again!” he yelled, and whirled around, shutting the door on Ethan and Danny going at it. He was getting the fuck out of there. 

\---

Other than the increased homework, everyone seemed to be in a better mood now that Christmas had come and gone. Allison and Scott had made up at the Yule Ball, and both of them and Isaac could be seen in each other’s company nearly all the time, and Allison had often started joining them for meals, leaving Stiles with Boyd and Cora, the former of which who- well, wasn’t spending any more time with Erica, but Stiles figured the quality of their meetings had changed quite a bit, if Cora’s teasing had any indication. When Stiles brought it up, Boyd looked like he was going to kill him. He didn’t bring it up again. 

Lydia was spending much of her time with Aiden, and spent the entire Herbology lesson humming while filling the tray of Screechsnap seedlings with dragon manure as Stiles gagged at them from across the tray. 

Scott was pleased to find that in Care of Magical Creatures they were beginning to learn about crups, which looked identical to a Jack Russell terrier except for it’s forked tail. He spent the whole lesson playing with it like it was the dog he never had (since he had asthma as a kid and his mom didn’t want to aggravate it anymore), and Stiles had to take all his quills away to keep him from writing his mom to ask if they could get one. 

\---

The rest of January seemed to pass just as quickly as the first half. On the nineteenth, Stiles made it halfway through History of Magic before remembering what day it was. He sat in his seat, antsy, until the bell rang, at which point he shot up out of the classroom and into his bedroom, searching his trunk. “Gotcha!” he said, clutching the parcel to his chest, and racing off to the owlery before lunch. He was panting by the time he got to the top of the seventh floor of the tower, but he pushed on.

When he pushed the door open, he collided with someone, knocking all of their packages from their arms. Stiles scrambled to keep hold of his parcel, and when he had it in hand, he looked up to a glaring Braeden, his fellow Gryffindor and Quidditch teammate. His eyes slid to the floor where all her things had been spilled.

“Oh shit sorry!” Stiles said, and dropped to his knees to help collect them for her, “Sorry, I didn’t see you,” he said as he piled the books, “It’s my dad’s birthday, I almost forgot to send him his gift.” He waved the package he’d nearly dropped. 

“It’s fine,” Braeden said, bending down to collect the last few things, “just don’t do it again.” She stood up, and manhandled the door open, disappearing. 

“Right,” he said, and watched her exit the owlery, grasping the package to his chest. He looked down, and said, “How did I almost forget to mail you twice?”

\---

Increasing amounts of homework were keeping the fifth years up past midnight, and some of them even later, thinking about the triwizard tournament, daydreaming with quills stuck in the corner of their mouths. However, the end of January came with the third Hogsmeade trip of the year, which was always pleasant for Stiles and his friends.

While walking to the sweets shop to pick up Isaac as usual, Stiles spotted a flashing sign in one of the shops’ windows, advertising a sale on candles with supposed magical properties. He stopped to read the sign, as two girls left the shop clutching pink candles to their chests. According to the sign, the candles were supposed to bring things like love (the pink ones), or health (the white ones), or anything else the owner might have wanted, so long as they had a candle for that. And by the looks of things, Stiles could see as he presses his face into the glass, they had a candle for everything. His friends disappeared into the sweets shop across the street as another couple of girls existed the shop. 

He ducked inside, looking over the candles. They were piled on every surface- the shelves were packed, they were piled on top of each other on the floor, a dozen or so had been enchanted to float around and light the shop, and Stiles had to duck under them to avoid scorching his hair. A couple holding hands were buying a few, and an elderly wizard leaning on a cane was inspecting a purple (protection) one, as Stiles turned to the sales associate, and said, “I’ll take one of each.” 

Five minutes later, he struggled out of the shop carrying the bags as Scott laughed at him.

Cora had bought a whole tin of Ginger Newts, and had the top of the tin tucked under one arm, offering the box around, “Ginger Newt, anyone?” half a cookie sticking out of her mouth. Stiles reached in for one, cramming the whole thing into his mouth as Cora said, “Man, I love these. I have to send like, a whole box of them to Derek- and Laura, if I can figure out where she’s living.” 

Stiles choked, his throat suddenly dry, cookie crumbs falling out of his mouth. Scott patted his back, firmly, and asked, “Dude, you okay?”

Stiles, eyes watering, managed to choke out a yes, and coughed again, choking down the rest of the cookie. They were all looking at him, but he gave them the “It’s okay, move on” symbol, and Erica said, “I guess that’s a sign we should go to the Three Broomsticks?”

Eyes still watering, Stiles nodded, and at the edge of his vision, he saw Cora giving him funny looks. She almost looked like she wanted to ask something, but she never did.

\---

The following afternoon, Lydia walked into the fifth year boys’ dormitory, and stopped dead in her tracks. Stiles was sitting on the floor by the window, surrounded by nearly twenty candles of various colors, attempting to light them all individually with an ignition spell. “What’s with the candles?”

“They're magic, I need them,” Stiles said, pointing at another candle and reciting the incantation. He pointed with his wand, “Pink is for love, I figured, why the hell not? Black is for spellbreaking; blue, wisdom…” he listed off.

When he got to the red candle (energy), Lydia mumbled, “Like you need any more of that…” He didn’t seem to hear, because he listed off the rest of the candles, lighting them as his wand passed. Hand on her hip, she asked, “Okay, why do you have all of them then?”

Stiles just stared up at her before saying, “I NEED ALL OF THESE THINGS.”

She rolled her eyes, “You could have been spending your time and your dad’s-”

“Mom’s.”

“-mom’s money on things to help Hogwart’s champion.”

“Yeah, and that candle,” Stiles pointed to a blue and bronze one, “is for the Ravenclaw champion’s victory.”

\---

“I don’t like her,” Erica said, climbing over the bench to sit next to Boyd in the study hall. Homework was piling up as the snow piles were starting to melt.

“Who?” Danny asked.

“Kali,” Erica spit. “She and all her stupid Durmstrang friends sit at the Slytherin table, and I can’t escape them. They’re not so bad until she comes around, and then they worship her.”

“She’s not so bad,” Ethan said.

“Well, yes she is,” Aiden said, snickering. Ethan joined him. “That’s why we like her.”

\---

Approaching Valentines day, boys and girls were wandering around the castle and the grounds in lovesick hazes. Aiden was running around, looking completely lost as to what to get Lydia, Scott didn’t know what he was supposed to get two partners, and Stiles was mostly just struggling over his new star chart, and attempting to decode things he found in Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms. He was seriously starting to think the candles weren’t working, or else somebody had hexed him against relationships of all kinds.

Across from him, Malia sat with a few dozen pages splayed out in front of her, staring out the window as she let her dangling quill drip all over her notes. She was cute, he noticed. She seemed a little lost with the whole of academia, which was actually kind of cute, although she was a bit forceful at times. He could live with that, but there was just something stopping him every time he thought about asking her out. He didn’t mind that she was a year older, she was almost childish at times, however blunt, but. 

So they sat, as she stared out the window at the forest like she craved to be there, and he read Spellman’s Syllabary. 

\---

In potions Harris walked around the room waving a vial of perfectly-brewed potion, and talked about something Stiles wasn’t paying attention to at all, instead he was staring off into space thinking about their latest DADA class, and was only pulled back in when Harris said, "We're going to combine efforts to finish this potion, and see if two heads are indeed better than one. Or in Mr. Stilinski's case, less than one."

Stiles slipped off the desk, landing in a heap with his cauldron and potions book. He got a D for the lesson. 

\---

Days before the second challenge, as February 25th approached, Stiles and his friends were getting antsy. They hadn’t played Quidditch in ages and the snow was finally disappearing, it felt like they’d been trapped in the castle for forever. So the first chance they got, Scott and Stiles assembled their team, and the two of them raced up to Coach’s office to get permission to practice Quidditch and take the balls out. Well, he waved them off with a mumbled, “Sure, Bilinski, whatever you just said,” looking like he’d been hit by some kind of stunning charm. They took that for a yes and ran with it. Ran with it all the way down to the Pitch with Erica, Danny, Kira and Isaac on their heels, all toting broomsticks. 

They reached the pitch just in time to see a group of six Beauxbatons students land gracefully on the ground, hopping off their own broomsticks. The Beauxbatons students- five girls and a boy, Marrion, Giselle’s boyfriend- regarded them somewhat coldly. Despite the fact the Beauxbatons students only sat a table away- with Danny’s housemates- their group had never really gotten to know any of them but Cora, and that didn’t really count because they knew her from before.

"So, uh, do you guys play?" Stiles asked, Quaffle tucked under one arm, breaking the mutual silence. 

The girl in front- Bonnie, Stiles thought- looked behind her, at her friend, who nodded, and she said, "We do. On occasion."

"Wanna play? Just a scrimmage-" Stiles said, gesturing back at his friends, and after a moment of exchanged looks, Bonnie nodded. 

"We will need another player," she said, in a heavy French accent. 

“I’ll do it,” someone behind Stiles said. The Beauxbatons students peered over their shoulders, not having noticed the approaching students, to see Cora and Boyd standing next to each other near the archway. “If Boyd can be on your team,” she said, in Stiles’ direction. 

“You’re on,” Boyd said. And the game commenced. By the end, Stiles had never seen the Beauxbatons group so dirty- completely spattered in mud- or so friendly towards them. they were positively beaming when they shook their hands, disappearing off to their carriage chatting happily in French.

\---

Since their impromptu Quidditch match, however, the Pitch had once again radically changed. In the middle of the field was now a large pond, its shores covered in sand five meters all around, the beach littered in broken weapons. The crowd was positively ecstatic. 

“I hope we get to see a beheading this time!” Erica said excitedly, eyeing a particular sword. 

“Yes! Me too!” one of the twins said, and Erica high-fived him, before the two rejoined the cheering. This match, the boundaries between schools were much less clear. Although wearing their native schools’ colors, both twins and Cora had joined the group this game. The judges had all collected, and within moments the first champion would be pushed from the tent. 

Ava Prezlocki stood up at the judges table, just having returned from briefing the champions, she stood to inform the spectators. “Today’s task is a relatively simple one-” she was grinning, so Stiles was getting the feeling it was going to be less simple than she was letting on, “our champions will be facing the creature from the lake, after which defeating, they will have to dive to the bottom of the pond to retrieve their prize. Now, let the tournament commence!” she said, and a sound like a cannon boom went off. 

Giselle stumbled out of the tent looking a bit disoriented, but she righted herself and started the confident march down to the pond. When she stepped onto the sandy shores, the creature started to rise from the lake in the form of a bubbling fountain, rising up until it took the form of- Marrion Moreau, her boyfriend! Several people near them gasped, people frantically looking around for the man. 

Giselle took a step forward, confusion on her face, “Marrion?” she said in a heavy accent. Pausing, she thought he might actually be there, but then she looked up sharply to the stands, and either spotted her boyfriend up there, or became assured he was up there, because she snapped out of the temporary haze. 

“What is it?” Allison asked, “A doppelganger?” 

“No, that’s a siren,” Lydia said. When they turned to her, she shrugged, “What? I read.” She pointed to the creature, still in the form of the girl’s boyfriend. “Remember the poem on the shell? It was about sirens, and the lake? They’re water creatures, and they usually turn into someone you love or desire. Like her beau.” 

Down at the lakeside, she had started at it. She cast nearly half a dozen spells before figuring out that they all simply reflected off him, the siren laughing and reaching for her to physically drag her down with him, when she started looking down at the weapons near her feet. She reached down for one of them, but reeled back, crying out in pain, clutching her hand.

“I think it just burned her,” Danny said with a frown. “They’re enchanted?”

Giselle got a look in her eye, then, and pointed her wand at her own hand, and recited a simple charm: a freezing incantation. She froze her own hand, and reached down. "Ooh," Allison said, as the contestant went for the sword, "I would have gone for the bow." 

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Well not everyone has the skills you do." She pushed him and he snickered.

She wielded the sword, raising it high over her head before bringing it down in a slashing motion, slicing right through the siren’s watery body, the form splashing back into the pond. Giselle didn’t even hesitate to dive head-first into the water, and pull the object up from the bottom- a single silver mirror with an intricate frame. The crowd was roaring. She bowed twice before disappearing back into the tent as the judges graded her. They were just as pleased as the spectators.

Up next, the Hogwarts champion. Daedalus marched out of the tent, and stepped onto the sand, bracing himself for the creature to rise again. He had the wax in his ears he’d brought with him, and was squinting as though that would protect him. The bubbles started forming, and once again the siren rose from the depths. She was in the form of a tall blonde woman, nobody they recognized. Heather huffed, crossing her arms, over by the Hufflepuffs. 

The woman started speaking in hushed tones, in the way she hadn’t for Giselle. Her voice was soft and low, but it sounded like she was right behind them, begging, beckoning with her arms outstretched…. Daedalus didn’t stand a chance. Hell, Stiles was considering jumping off the balcony to go join her. He was captivated by the sight of her, and pulled the wax from his ears, wading deep into the water after her, as she slid back into the depths just out of his reach, until he was fully submerged. 

Lydia sighed, “Well, there goes our hope.” 

After a moment, the Siren appeared in front of Daedalus, apparently kissing him before tossing his body back to shore. He sat up and coughed out water from his lungs, looking sullen. He stood up and kicked an axe near his foot, yelping when it burned him, and hobbled back to the tent. 

Another moment, and Kali’s hardened face appeared, and she strode towards the water with her teeth clenched. When she stepped on the beach, the siren formed again, this time a man with a shaved head. She stood there frozen in her tracks, as he grinned, and said, “Baby, c’mon,” beckoning her, “join me, I’m here,” he said, so plainly, so full of… Stiles was ready to join him. “You don’t need to worry ever again,” he laughed lightly, slowly moving towards the shore with his hand outstretched to reach for her, her own reaching towards him as she stumbled towards the water with a pitiful look on her face. Her eyes were glazed over, like she so badly wanted it to be real.

Danny, huddled up with Ethan in the cold, asked in a hushed voice, “Who is that?”

“Ennis,” Ethan said in a solemn voice, “her boyfriend. He died last year.”

And then, like being broken from a spell as her feet touched the water, Kali looked enraged. She bit out, “Ennis would not say things like that!” and screamed, clawing out the siren’s throat in a sudden movement. The crowd was too stunned to react before Kali dove into the pond and retrieved the mirror, throwing it back to shore. The cloud clapped wildly, even Hogwarts was cheering for her. She didn’t seem to care, even as she lost points for being taken by the siren. 

The crowd was stunned. This tournament was turning out to be quite interesting. 

\---

They started March by beginning their month of tackling the Viking rune alphabet known as Jötunvillur in Study of Ancient Runes. It was a bit advanced, but they were told it’d be on the OWL exams, so they’d have to know it. Stiles wanted to die a little bit on the inside. Professor Blake looked positively gleeful. 

\---

It was still fucking cold, with rain every other evening, pelting the still-solid ground, but they really, really needed to study for their OWLS so Stiles listened to the radio outside with Cora and them by the lake, studying for fifth year exams. Books were piled higher than their heads, and Stiles was working on three different essays at once, trading self-spelling quills with Scott, and commiserating with Erica. 

Ethan and Aiden had joined them, but they were just messing around- hitting the orb of heat they’d conquered like it was a beach ball- and were throwing pieces of food at each other. “It’s so funny you Hogwarts have to take exams during this, ours were cancelled, Deucalion thought it would distract us from the games,” Aiden said, as he landed a piece of taffy in his brother’s ear.

Cora shrugs, and says, “I don’t have them till next year, anyway.”

“You’re so lucky,” Allison groaned, “Maybe I should have gone to Beauxbatons instead. My aunt wanted me to.”

“Will you two cut it out?!” Boyd said, waving his arms around to fend off the stray candy headed his way. “Go play with the giant squid or something! He wants visitors! His lake has just unthawed!” The boys looked at each other like a challenge, and they were off, shedding clothes as they ran, diving head first into the lake inn nothing but their underwear, as the group stared after them. “I didn’t think those guys would really do it,” Boyd said in awe, shaking his head, “Man those Durmstrang bastards are crazy.”

\---

The first of the series of scrimmage matches set up between Hogwarts and Durmstrang started off promising with Kali, a beater, breaking Boyd’s arm and fracturing Erica’s skull. Nobody could determine if they were actually accidents or not, but Erica would go to her grave insisting that they weren’t, and that bitch had it out for her.

\---

By the end of the month, Stiles was hearing all kinds of rumors and speculation about the clue the champions had received. So far, it seemed that at first the mirror didn’t really do anything- nothing special anyway, like yell out beauty tips or insult your face- it was just a plain ol mirror. But once or twice the owners caught the mirror being a little… less innocent. Ethan said the mirror actually made Kali look hot for once, which was saying something. Lydia reported seeing the girl that the siren had impersonated again- seeing her in the mirror, with a better looking Daedalus’ arm around her. Cora said Giselle’s mirror started smirking at her, and was always surrounded by friends that weren’t there.

No one could make heads or tails of the mirrors or the clues, and Lydia was working overtime searching books in the library with other Ravenclaws, even with the help of her time-turner to aid. 

\---

Around Stiles’ birthday, Isaac got a letter in the mail. It was an unusual occurrence- Isaac never got mail, no one was there to write him- made more unusual by the fact it was marked by muggle postage, as though someone was trying to send it to a muggle address, despite the fact it was dropped into his lap by a Screech Owl who then demanded his leftover bacon. 

The letter stated that Isaac’s father was killed in a muggle automobile accident, and since he had no living relatives, he would be placed in a muggle orphanage upon completion of this school year. “Oh,” he said offhandedly, looking down, “Good.”

“But you can’t go to an orphanage!” Scott said, looking horrified, apparently not caring that he’d just revealed he’d been reading over Isaac’s shoulder. “We have to go talk to the headmaster right now!” Scott said, standing up, grabbing Isaac’s arm, and marching him right up to the head table before Isaac really had a chance to process. 

“Yes?” Davis said, when the two students stood in front of his plate. “Master Lahey,” he nodded in the direction of the letter, “I am sorry for your loss. I assume you are hear about your future living arrangements?”

Once again, before Isaac had a chance to speak, Scott blurted, “My mom wouldn’t mind if he came to live with us permanently!”

Isaac, for the first time, actually looked shocked. “What?”

“I mean, you already live with us anyway, practically!” Scott said, “You can’t go live in a place like that! Do you know who else lived in a muggle orphanage?”

“Muggle orphans?” Isaac guessed.

Scott looked around, and then whispered closely, “Voldemort! Voldemort lived in a muggle orphanage!” 

“I- okay?”

“See!” Scott said, “he has to come live with me!”

“I will speak with your mother,” Davis said, nodding along, like what Scott said hadn’t been complete nonsense. Isaac was still out of it from the whole ‘Voldemort’ thing. 

The following morning, Scott instead got a letter, but with no muggle postmarks. Tearing it open, he grinned as he read, “Scott, and Isaac, I presume- I got a surprise visit from the headmaster!” Scott skimmed the rest of the letter, but he’d gotten the gist of it- Isaac was going to come live with them!

\---

School was becoming increasingly difficult. Not only were teachers reminding them of it every step of the way, they also had to make time for studying and homework and the inevitable breakdowns. Stiles went through his Adderall in half as much time as it normally took him, and Allison was considering taking a permanent dive in the lake. “If I’m not alive I don’t have to take exams.”

“Yeah, but we would have to attend your funeral on top of exams,” Stiles remarked over highlighting his entire History of Magic textbook. 

“Not if you joined me,” she said.

\---

Three days into the Easter holiday, Stiles passed Daedalus and his group of friends in the hallway as he was heading up to French Club. They were apparently discussing his clue, the mirror, as they marched around the school. Having seen a flash of his double in the morning, Daedalus said to one of his surly friends, “And then I glanced in the mirror, and it was smirking at me! That’s not unusual as of late, but for a moment, he was wearing a Slytherin uniform!”

\---

A few days later, appearing on the notice board was a single sheet of paper, among the pamphlets, leaflets, and notices that appeared overnight in the Gryffindor common room. According to the rest of his friends, they’d appeared in all of the other common rooms too. The notice posted on the board read: 

**CAREER ADVICE**  

All fifth years will be required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House during the first week of the Summer term, in which they will be given the opportunity to discuss their future careers. Times of individual appointments are listed below. 

 

Stiles, Allison and Boyd spent that afternoon lounging around the common room debating the merits of certain careers instead of working on (avoiding) essays. 

“Do we have to talk to somebody about this? I already know what I’m gonna do,” Stiles remarked, leafing through one of the papers he’d snatched off the table. He squinted at the ad for the Metal-Charmer. 

Allison groaned, “Try having the career talk with your dad,” she said, her legs across Stiles’ lap as she lay across the couch. “Also, who would actually want to be an Unspeakable? It doesn’t even have a description here!” she showed them the page. 

“At least your dad knows what kind of sense to make of this stuff,” Boyd grumbled, “Try explaining to your muggle parents that you want to go wrestle dragons in Romania or want to work in Wizarding banking.”

“Do you want to do either of those things?” Stiles asked.

“No,” he said, offhandedly, “but if I did my parents certainly wouldn’t understand. Being an Unspeakable wouldn’t be too bad, probably. They work in the Department of Mysteries, that’s got to be interesting, right?”

“I suppose,” Allison said, continuing to flip through the leaflet, “I’d much rather be working something dangerous and exciting. But something that helps people too, you know? Like my dad, he was an Auror- and Stiles, don’t you want to be one too?”

Stiles nodded, “Yeah- I always wanted to be a cop like my dad, but this is a lot better, since I’d get to use magic instead of a gun.”

\---

Stiles’ appointment with Professor Argent came the following Thursday, (thankfully) pulling him from a drab lecture in History of Magic. He ran up the steps two at a time and landed in the deputy headmaster’s office just in time. 

“Stiles,” Professor Argent said, perching on the edge of his desk, “Have you put any thought into what kind of career you want to pursue?” 

Stiles nodded, “I want to be an Auror. My dad is a cop- they’re muggle law enforcement- and I always wanted to be one when I was a kid.”

Argent handed him a leaflet from the pile on his desk, “Now, becoming an Auror is incredibly difficult-” he said, meeting Stiles’ eyes- “I should know, I was one myself. You’ll need top grades in at least five NEWTs, including in my class. That shouldn’t be difficult, you’re a bright kid, Stiles, and I think if anyone in your year can do it, it’s you. And Allison, of course.”

“Allison?” Stiles asked.

“Oh, she didn’t tell you?” Argent said. Stiles shook his head. Allison had left her father’s office tight-lipped monday afternoon, and hadn’t said a word about her meeting since.

“My daughter is considering a career as an Auror, continuing on the family business,” he said proudly, “Now, enough about Allison. Stiles, you’re going to need at least four NEWTs other than my own, including Charms, Transfiguration….”

“You didn’t tell me you wanted to be an Auror!” Stiles said half an hour later, marching out of the office and to Allison in the great hall.

“I didn’t want to jinx it!” Allison said, her plate full of sandwiches. 

“Come on!” he said, dragging her up and out of her seat, stuffing a couple of her sandwiches in her pocket, “We don’t have time to eat, we have to study! I had no idea becoming a magical cop was going to involve so much research!”

\---

The rest of April came and went with more rain and homework. Stiles actually wrote up a study schedule for himself. He color coded it green for things he understood, yellow for things he was working on, and red for things he didn’t understand about becoming an Auror. It was mostly red. The weather had grown breezier and warmer as the holidays passed, and Stiles was ever thankful for the fact he’d continued CoMC thus far- it seemed the only break from the monotony of traveling back and forth to the library with the other fifth and seventh years. 

On the way to that morning’s lesson, Stiles vented to Scott, arms waving as he complained. 

“You guys are like the third people I’ve walked in this year!” Stiles said, as they walked. “I did not need to see that part of Isaac! Or Allison! Or you!” he added. “I could have gone my whole life without seeing any of that!”

Scott laughed, grinning, as they neared Deaton’s hut, “Who were the other two?”

“Not important!” Stiles yelled, “I’m getting an awful lot of action for someone who isn’t getting any action. Someone needs to sex me up, like, right now!”

\---

"They say one of the old Heads of the Department of International Magical Cooperation is buried out here," Erica said, as they marched down by the edge of the forest.

"No way!" Scott exclaimed, "Which one?"

"I have no idea, I don't even know who the current Minister is!" Erica said, swinging her arms as she walked.

“It’s Maxine,” Stiles said, “She sent her assistant to help with some of the tournament stuff. And she’s in the papers all the time.”

\---

Later that day, Stiles had Charms with the Ravenclaws. They’d all been given teacups to charm, and at the moment, Stiles little honeycomb-patterned cup had sprouted legs and was scurrying away. 

“No!” Stiles said, diving for it, before it fell headlong off the table. 

“What did you do to your cup?” Lydia asked, as hers was playfully following her wand. 

Stiles scowled, “I didn’t do anything! Reparo!” he pointed, and the shattered cup reassembled. He snatched it up before it had a chance to get away.

Danny was having even more trouble than Stiles- his cup had sprouted only two tiny legs, and was waving them in the air wildly. He was glaring at his cup and poking it with his wand. “I hate this class. I hate this class.” 

\---

Two weeks before the final task, OWLs were to begin. Teachers had given up trying to teach them new material, and were bent on reviewing everything they thought was likely to come up on exams. The days passed in feaverish waves of studying, and nearly everyone Stiles knew had developed some sort of strange behavior in retaliation. Erica had been pulling out her hair and chewing on her nails so often they were down to the nailbeds, Lydia had bags under her eyes revealing what she usually brought with her on the train, and Stiles himself was staying up all night surviving only on draughts to keep him awake and caffeine in the form of Butterbeer. 

Isaac, usually calm about, well, everything, had picked up the nervous habit of chattering. “You don’t think they can flunk us all can they? They can’t right? How much are you guys studying? I got three hours in yesterday but Stiles doesn’t look like he’s slept in a week and-”

Scott, on the other hand, looked cheerful and motivated, and looked like he’d been getting at least eight hours, “Come on guys, I know you can do it! We can do it!”

“You know you haven’t been doing super well all year, right, Scott?” Stiles said, after four days of limited sleep. The rest of the group were all looking at Scott like he’d taken something. Stiles squinted at him, “You haven’t taken anything, have you?”

“Taken what?” he asked, cheerfully. Oblivious, and cheerfully. 

“Oh my god we’re gonna all die,” Stiles groaned. 

\---

Over the course of studying, they hadn’t had much time for their foreign friends. Cora just shrugged it off with an “I don’t mind,” and the twins had just taken to watching their partners study while flipping through magazines. For once, Stiles was glad he didn’t have anyone to distract him. Everyone was studying up to the last minute Sunday night before the first exam: Theory of Charms.

Clive and Arthur were quizzing each other on five years of Charms notes on Clive’s bed, while James was hanging off his own upside down, hoping the increased blood flow to his brain would improve memory. Stiles and Boyd had since given up on trying to cram everything, and were trying to speculate on what the exam would hold while Braeden, who had joined them to escape the girls in her dorm, was mumbling simple charms under her breath until dinner. 

The next morning, not a single fifth year uttered a word. They all milled about like wide-eyed, terrified zombies. Scott nearly opened his mouth, once, but regained the terrified look and shoved eggs in his mouth instead. The people surrounding him all had their noses shoved into books, right up until Argent opened up the Great Hall again, and said, “You may begin.”

Two hours later, they all wandered back out, looking dazed. “That wasn’t too bad,” Stiles said.

“Yes it was,” Danny said. “And we still have to do the practical this afternoon.” 

\---

The rest of the week passed in a horrible blur of Transfiguration, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Stiles probably felt the most confidently about that one thus far- Herbology was rather easy, but he still got bitten, and Transfiguration only had a bit of the rat’s tail remaining when he vanished it. Argent watched over all of them, pleased, as Stiles and his friends successfully performed all of the counterjinxes he’d taught them. 

On Friday, which some of his friends had off, Lydia and Stiles exited the Ancient Runes exam, “That was really easy.”

“Well, I did have a bit of trouble translating the Archaic Latin,” Stiles admitted, “Although the couple of runes we had to decipher were much easier.”

“You didn’t mix up the part that said ‘master’ instead of ‘friend’ did you?” Lydia asked, “It’s a common mistake especially if you learned regular Latin first.”

“Oh shit,” Stiles said, racking his brain to remember what he’d written, “I can’t remember!"

With the weekend arriving, they allowed themselves a break from studying, the group piled under the beech tree by the lake. Scott had snuck some cream puffs from the kitchens, and so he and Boyd were feeding them to the giant squid as Stiles drifted off with his head in Lydia’s lap. Lydia and the girls were taking a break from anything intellectual, and were giggling over the copies of The Quibbler that Erica had provided, trading “beauty tips” that were in one of the columns, like ‘smear powdered doxie dung on pimples for instant relief” and ‘in a pinch, horklump juice can be used as hair gel.’

On Monday, Scott came out of the Potions exam looking pale, and muttering the ingredients of the Draught of Peace. He didn’t look so cheerful anymore, so Stiles tried to cheer him up by letting him gush on about how nice Allison’s hair looked during the exam. 

He looked much happier the following afternoon with the Care of Magical Creatures exam the following day, and certainly got full marks on that, although Stiles was suffering a severe knarl bite that Madam Morell had to take a look at when he was finished. The next day’s Arithmancy made them suffer again, and the Astronomy exam made no sense. 

“When will we get our results?” Erica asked, coming out of the History of Magic exam, the final one that Friday. 

“End of the year,” Danny said, head in his hands. “My brain is drained.”

“At least it’s over!” she said cheerfully, grabbing Boyd to go snog him behind a statue like she hadn’t had time to in weeks. 

\---

Finally, the event they’d been waiting for- the thing that got them all through exams the past weeks- had arrived. The third task. Finally free from exams, Stiles and his friends were ecstatic. The night before the tournament, the families of the three contestants came to join them- Giselle’s brothers, big hardy men who shared her bright eyes, joined her and Marrion at the Ravenclaw table; Daedalus was joined by his parents- and oddly enough, the blonde woman from the mirror and the previous tournament. Nobody knew who she was, except the Tippens family, apparently. Kali sat alone. Or rather, without her family. The twins joined her as usual, making jokes and throwing food in order to entertain her, and Deucalion stopped by in the middle of the meal. 

The next morning was abuzz with chatter and laughter, everyone finally free and happy as they walked, once again, down to the Quidditch pitch. Lydia had escaped them, so they climbed up and reserved her a seat. No one had a clue what to expect, even looking down at a giant version of the clue mirrors that had been place in the center of the field. 

“What do you think it’s going to be?” Allison asked, looking down. 

“It has to do with the reflections,” Stiles said, “I just don’t know what.”

“Maybe Lydia is finding out?”

Lydia, however, was not. Not intentionally anyway. She’d slipped away and grabbed the arm of Daedalus before he could step into the champions tent. “Whoa! Lydia! What are you doing here?”

“No time for pleasantries,” she said, poking him in the chest, “Listen up: I just want you to remember one thing for tonight.”

"Uh, winning isn't everything?" Daedalus said, looking nervous.

"Nobody likes a loser,” she says, and pokes him in the chest, “Win. For Hogwarts.” She turned around, and flounced off up to the stands before he entered the tent, shaking his head.

By the time Lydia arrived back up at the top of the stands, Ms. Prezlocki was exiting the tent, and had started to speak, “Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the final task of the Triwizard Tournament! The points currently stand at first place, with 83 points, Ms. Giselle Lefebvre! Second, with a close 74, Mr. Daedalus Tippens! And finally, in third place with 68, Ms. Kali!” The crowd cheered, the Durmstrang students all stomping their feet so loudly Kali’s name was barely even heard. “On my whistle, Kali-” she said, and blew, launching Kali from the tent. 

She stumbled over to the mirror, as the crowd silenced. She stepped to the mirror, and reflected back was the image of her she’d been seeing for weeks. For some reason, she felt compelled to reach forward, and as soon as her hand touched the cool glass- the crowd gasped, and she jumped back, for her double was coming from the mirror. Only, this Kali looked so much worse than the original.

“Oh my god I think they have to fight!” Allison said, and moments later, they did. Kali threw spells and hexes and jinxes, but they were all deflected by a taunting double. The woman circled Kali, and sent her own in Kali’s direction. Several managed to hit her squarely, knocking her off her feet, but she always pulled herself back up. 

"You. Can't," she said, circling the real Kali. "Win." Kali snarled at her double, but it just made the double grin wider, "For all your evil, I am ten times worse. You can't beat me," she sneered, "You don't even have a good enough heart."

Kali launched at her double, wand thrown aside, and the two commenced to fighting in the dirt, until the judges finally called it off, waving their arms and yelling, “Use your wands! Wands!” 

Kali was escorted back to the tent, receiving a dismally low score, and her double dissipated with a grin to the audience. The twins groaned, “I had hoped she would kill her.”

“Which one?” Lydia remarked, and the twins shrugged.

“Either. I just wanted to see some blood.”

Giselle stumbled from the tent a few moments later, and approached her mirror self. The girl that stepped out was beautiful, much more so than her actual self, but her nails were as sharp as knives, as were her words. As she advanced on Giselle, her words stung like venom, but Giselle refused to let them overtake her, and the look on her face was determined. Cora leaned over as Giselle held her wand high, and started, “Giselle was from an abusive family before her brothers moved out and took her with them, so words have nothing on her.”

“Expelliarmus!” she yelled, and her double gasped as her wand flew from her hand, Giselle marching up to the double and punching her in the face. The double looked enraged and screamed, leaping after Giselle until they were a flurry of yelled words and punches, Giselle groping around the ground for her lost wand, until she grabbed it just in time to yell a spell Stiles didn’t recognize, shooting ropes out the tip and tying her up. Giselle stood proudly, grinning through a black eye and missing tooth, blood dripping from her mouth as she ran to greet her boyfriend at the edge of the tent. Stiles thought that though she didn’t look like the beautiful girl who appeared in October in blue silk robes, she almost looked good like that.

The judges looked like they didn’t know what to do with her, so they awarded her full points, as her brothers stood and yelled from the stands. Cora clapped and hooted loudly. 

Daedalus was last. When he approached the mirror, he took a deep breath and touched the frame, his double popping out from it. This time, though, the double was wearing a set of Slytherin robes, taunting him with, “This is what you could have been! If only you’d insisted on Slytherin!” 

But Daedalus’ eyes hardened, and he stood in a dueling position, bowing to himself, his double bowing back as they raised their wands and the spells started flying. After a jelly-legs jinx he blocked, he yelled, “Man I’m glad I joined Dueling Club!” advancing on his double, who was getting extremely annoyed. A few more well-aimed curses, and the double was taken down. He was awarded full points by the judges. 

The crowd was screaming, and before their very eyes, the pitch transformed into a stage with a large blue and silver cup- the Triwizard Cup! Thus began the presentation ceremony, where Kali was awarded third place, Daedalus second, and finally, in first, a beaming Giselle of Beauxbatons- the schools were ecstatic, especially Beauxbatons, their headmistress proudly showing off the trophy to a growling Deucalion. 

\---

The next few days were a blur of spending all the time with their friends as they could, and just being generally happy the year was over, all brought back into focus when they received their exam scores. 

The group sat around in a circle on the floor of the Gryffindor tower, and Cora had joined them. They also had their sheets for what they wanted to take the following year, assuming they’d passed.

“I don’t wanna open it,” Isaac said, shaking his head, letter in hand. 

“Oh don’t be a baby,” Cora said, taking it from him, tearing the letter open, to his horror. She quickly glanced over the letter, and then handed it back, “There. You didn’t fail anything.”

“Oh thank Merlin,” he said, taking back the form, and scanning over it himself. “Yes! Only four As!” 

Everyone looked around at each other nervously, and started tearing their own papers open nervously. Moments later, sighs of relief were to be heard from everyone. Stiles hadn’t failed anything either- he got several As, barely scraping by in Potions (he was pretty sure that was only because he accidentally dropped lacewing flies into his cauldron, causing it to turn the right color,) but he got several Es in various other classes (like CoMC, it was because he had to listen to Scott talk about it all the time, but he’d discovered that beyond things like werewolves and more interesting things like fairies, he wasn’t actually all that interested all that much, so he had plans to drop it later,) and Os in both DADA and Ancient Runes.

Erica was the only one out of the whole group to get an O in History of Magic, and Scott only passed Potions by copying Allison’s motions from three desks away, but he, Isaac, and Boyd all received Os in Care of Magical Creatures.

Like expected, Lydia got an O in every single thing, except for Astronomy, which was the only A she’d ever gotten. She was undoubtedly dropping the class. Allison got an A in the class too, and like Lydia and Stiles, an O in DADA. She was pleased. 

For the most part, Danny got Es and Os, even in his worst class: Charms. He was totally going to drop it till Stiles pointed out he couldn’t be a healer unless he took it, so he sighed and cursed, crossing Charms from his dropped list. 

Lydia quit Astronomy due to it “infringing on her beauty sleep”, although they suspected she dropped it for the same reason Allison and Erica did: because it was pointless, and Danny because, quote, he “doesn’t have time for all this shit.”

“Yet you’re still taking Muggle Studies?” Stiles said, “Lydia, you were raised by muggles.”

Lydia shrugged, “I want to keep my options open.”

“For what? You already know what you want to do!”

Looking over his final choices for the next year’s electives and dropped classes, Isaac said, "Ugh, this means I'm going to have twice as many classes with Slytherin.”

From beside him, Erica grinned and ran her hand down his arm, "That just means you're gonna spend alllllll your time with me, lover boy."

Isaac looked horrified and scooted closer to Allison, as Erica laughed hysterically, making final adjustments to her paper. By the time they had composed their lists of added and dropped classes for the next year, it was dinner time. The group headed down to dinner, after which they would turn in their final choices. The group didn’t bother to separate, and just sat at their usual spot at the Gryffindor table, all nine of them, pushing disgruntled Gryffindors farther down the table. Alicia was happy for the company, and chatted with Scott about her own class choices for her third year. 

Just before the end-of-term feast was to begin, Davis stood up to make an announcement. “With the end of the Triwizard Tournament comes the end of our term. We have made many friends this year, all of whom are welcome to return, as Hogwarts will always be here to welcome you. But for my own students, I have to make an announcement: As you well know, for the past few years we have not had a Divination class here at Hogwarts, after Professor Trelawney’s retirement several years before. There has been a shortage of qualified Divination teachers available, and the previous headmaster found the subject rather trivial. However, as a qualified replacement has been found, I shall be reinstating the class for the next school year, open to any third year students and above. Now, let the feast begin!”

“What, are you serious?” Erica said, “I always wanted to take a Divination class! Boyd, we have to sign up!”

“I-” 

“Come on, please? For me?” she begged, bringing out her “I-know-you’ll-do-anything-I-say-like-this” eyes. 

He sighed, “Fine, but I’m going to Argent and saying you forced me into it if it gets in the way.”

“... Not gonna lie here, I kinda wanna take it too,” Stiles said, “Scott, wanna join? We have a free period!”

Scott nodded eagerly, and Allison smiled, “What if we all took it, together? It’ll be fun!” she turned to Lydia, and said, “What do you think?” Lydia just held up her class sheet, with Divination already written on it, and after that, the quill was passed around till everyone signed up- all except for Alicia, who wanted to take Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy. 

\---

The next morning was not only the ride back on the Hogwarts express, but also the day the other students departed. In the courtyard, before the carriages were to depart, there was a mass of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students among the Hogwarts kids, all hugging, crying, and saying goodbye. 

Cora hugged them all, and told Boyd to write her before running off to the Beauxbatons carriage, which was leaving. Stiles and the rest of them waved to the twins before heading back to get their trunks for the train, but Lydia, Allison, and Danny stayed behind. Allison was waiting on the two of them saying goodbye, standing a few feet behind her best friend.

Lydia kissed Aiden goodbye, and he smiled, saying, accent thick, “I knew you liked me." 

The twins departed also, starting to board the ship when Aiden turned back to the girls, yelling loudly as he hung over the side, "Write me!" and Lydia laughed with Allison, and rolled her eyes, turning back to the school with her friends. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooooooo, you know that this means? DEREEEEEKKKKKK IS COMIN BACCCCCKKKK. Actual for reals Sterek next chapter. 
> 
> \---
> 
> Year Six: Biting back
> 
> And then it's sixth year, and Derek is back. As a teacher. Who the fuck let him near children? Also lycanthropy.


End file.
